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#and the fact that they were completely obsessed with the idea that I'd have a speech impediment back in the day

artemis32 · 2 months

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yandere superfam drabble i

listen, i have a ton of ideas for the batfam. really, i do. but come on. superfam.

dc masterlist

Thinking about Clark and his family as yanderes.

Individually, they're enough of a headache, but together? Damn.

Clark Kent sees himself as your father. The problem with him as a yandere is, he's genuinely terrifying. I mean, ignoring the fact that this man is literally Superman, he's also incredibly delusional.

I think most people downplay, or forget exactly how strong this man is. He's strong, fast, and so insanely smart. All that being said, there is literally zero chance of you avoiding him, under any circumstances.

The only saving grace in this situation is the fact that he's, like I said, delusional. Not in a 'oh, I know this is kind of wrong, but I can justify it as being right' kind of way. Rather, he wholeheartedly believes he's helping you, doing the best thing for you by allowing his obsession and thoughts of you overtake your life.

You don't even have the luxury of a slow descent into the situation. His mindset regarding you shifted really quickly, and by the time you were clued in on it, you'd already been stolen away to a farm in the middle of nowhere, ripped away from your life without warning.

The only aspect of his mindset that doesn't quite fit in with the delusional yandere archetype is the fact that, if you push the right buttons, he will absolutely fly off the handle. That in itself proves that, no matter how much he insists otherwise, he knows what he's done to you is wrong.

Jon Kent is a carbon copy of his father. He firmly believes that your place in life is with them, as a part of their family. The fact that you weren't born into the family means nothing to him. If you weren't meant to be with them, the your paths would never have crossed.

The only difference between him and Clark is that Jon has no doubt in his mind that what they're doing is okay. Clark is delusional; Jon is deranged. A part of you believes you can't really blame him - he's a child, a product of his environment. If that's what he was taught his whole life, by the people he loved and trusted, then of course he didn't see a problem with it. But the larger part of you still hated him, hated the fact that he saw you as the crazy one, as if his family hadn't abducted you from your crappy Metropolis apartment in the middle of the night.

And the fact that he was a few years younger than you didn't stop him from treating you like a child. Granted, he was insanely strong and fast, but that didn't mean you had to enjoy him manhandling you as easily as his father and brother whenever he thought you were getting too fussy.

Conner Kent, a few years your senior, isn't like Clark or Jon. He's completely aware of what they're doing to you, of how invasive and creepy it is. He just doesn't care.

I'd almost argue that him being fully aware of how wrong it all was might've been creepier than the shared delusion of Clark and Jon, especially since he could stare you dead in the eye, blank faced at the sight of your tears, and tell you in the most monotonous voice you've ever heard that he didn't care about what you wanted.

Besides a few uncanny moments with him, he was mostly pretty cocky and snide, with this keen way of getting under your skin. It's almost as if he revelled in the fact that you knew he knew they were wrong, the fact that he could do something to help you get away from all this, but he just... didn't.

The worst part was, if he hadn't, you know, kidnapped you, you might've liked him. He was easy to like, if you ignored the annoying sarcasm and ever-present smirk, the type of person you might've wanted to be friends with.

Too bad he spoiled all that by being batshit crazy.

Lois Lane, to her credit, was against the idea at first. She acted as the voice of reason in the family. Or, at least, she tried to. But the men in her family were nothing if not determined.

She realised how crazy, how morally wrong it was to rip someone away from their life for what you thought might be best for them. She also realised how terrified you'd be, surrounded by people, beings who were so much stronger than you, able to subdue you with little more than the tip of a pinky finger.

But, in the end, they won her over. The idea of someone to take care of, someone normal in the family - someone like her, and a daughter to boot - the offer was too sweet to pass up on. She's an odd mix of mindsets, a point somewhere between Clark's delusion and Conner's unwavering sanity, and that makes her scarier than the rest of them, somehow.

The fact that she knows it's wrong, but is able to convince herself it's for your own good - that's terrifying.

Though, she is great in the motherly role, acting as neutral ground for whenever one of the others overwhelm you past what you can reasonably handle. She seems to have a sixth sense for your threshold too, appearing as if out of thin air whenever you're close to snapping at one of the three men who are always in your hair.

Out of all four of them, you'd admit to liking her the most, though admittedly, it's for a selfish reason. She's the easiest person to slip by - the rest of them have super sight and hearing, and even if you could slip away, they'd catch up to you in a few seconds flat. Lois, as much as you may dislike her, was only human. Yes, she had this weird sense for when you'd try to pull something, but for the most part, you had more leeway with her than anyone else.

As a result, you stuck to her like glue, which lead to Jon whining that you were playing favourites. Jon, you could understand. He was a child, one who was used to getting his way most of the time. Clark, however, also tended to develop a strangely endearing pout whenever you ignored him, one that had even Lois caving and forcing you to spend time with someone other than her.

One thing all of them had in common was the fact that they were so damn clingy. They seemed magnetically drawn to you, hanging off of you like children at all hours of the day. It was infuriating, constantly having your personal space intruded upon.

Even at night, when you tried to sleep, you'd wake to find Conner or Jon sliding in beside you, or, even worse, you'd mysteriously wake up in Clark and Lois' bed the next morning. That always made you uncomfortable - how had they managed to move you several rooms down without you once waking up?

Your only saving grace was that all four had their own lives outside of the household, often leaving for work or school, or even patrols, so you very rarely had to deal with all four at the same time. Your favourite days were the ones when it was just you and Lois. You could slip away in the morning, right after Jon caught the bus to school, and spend the entire day away from the prison-like household.

They at least trusted you enough to let you roam around the farm freely. Well, not trusted, exactly. More like, they knew you couldn't get far before one of them caught up to you.

The perks of living in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

On the bright side, they acted as if the entire household revolved around you. You could decide what everyone ate for breakfast and dinner, you could decide the 'family activity' of the week. They tended to give in to what you wanted pretty easily, on the condition that you gave them something in return, whether it be attention, affection, or some crudely handmade gift that wasn't worth much.

Despite their joyful front though, they could all be terrifying, especially Clark. You'd learnt that the hard way when they'd first taken you. One of them snapping usually only happened if you put yourself in harm's way, but there were other circumstances where they (Clark), felt punishment was warranted.

You'd once made the mistake of making genuinely hurting Lois (or, her feelings at least), to the point of making her cry. Once, and never again.

But since then, you'd learnt how to play your cards, how to skate by in the Kent household with only a small dose of anxiety. You'd managed to avoid being metaphorically (and literally) shackled to the bed, like when you'd first arrived. Time had made things easier - time, and getting to know them.

As much as you were loathed to admit it, getting to know them had made it easier to handle them. It'd been a hard pill to swallow originally, but as the months went by, you'd had to accept the fact that you weren't going anywhere, and it was better to adapt to the situation than remain sullen and miserable for the rest of your life.

They seemed to believe you were slowly but surely coming around to the idea of being a part of their family. You definitely acted like it. But deep down, you were biding your time, waiting, planning for the perfect moment.

You'd leave, run and hide, go to furthest corner of the earth to get away from them. You always thought you would, and one day, you did.

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starwrighter · 4 months

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"Dad" Dan au

(Pov I haven't read Agit yet) ( I don't mind spoilers though)

I don't think we in the dpxdc fandom play with the canon information that Dark Danny is a product of Danny's ghost half fusing with with Plasmius.

Yeah, he's completely down with mass murder and is really sadistic in the episode but that's not as fun to play with in this context.

He's still merged with Vlad and I'd like to have that bleed into him a bit more than the "oh he's so evil," but him being obsessed with his own Mom like Vlad is a level of weird I'm not willing to touch with a fifty foot pole.

I say, let him have Vlad's obsession with making Danny his son. It's hilarious! Imagine being obsessed with making your past self your son! Dan had no qualms with directly trying to murder the past version of his family. But I love the idea of him first seeing his past self in all his awkward half-ghost glory an obsession kicks into gear with a fury!

Dan hating his own parents with a passion because they're uh, well... His parents. And that stops him from being his own parent! It's so stupid. Dan judging every single one their parenting decisions. All while he himself is still morally detestable.

It's great! Still can't decide if he's just stalking the family like a creep. Or he pretended to be redeemed and Danny with Jazz gaslit their parents into believing they have an older sibling ghosts his from them.

Onto the dpxdc part of this!

Now Dan is just looking for the opportunity to whisk Danny away. Jack and Maddie are interfering with his obsession without even trying to! He'll be trying to feed the kid something edible and they'll be ectoplasm samples in the fridge! Ghost hunting equipment in the open when they know it has a tendency to misfire around their son! Dan doesn't care if they really love Danny. There are harpoons pointed at his kid! Those idiots were one misstep away from accidentally killing their child a second time and Dan isn't having it!

Dan yoinks Danny and fucking books it into the ghost zone. Danny clearly wouldn't be happy with this development (betrayal or surprise you choose!) And Dan is trying his best to get Danny to co-operate. Either with specter deflectors or a deal with Desiree. But Danny's stuck with the guy.

I'm taking advantage of the fact that the Dc universe has absolutely obliterated it's multiverse making pretty much impossible for normal ghosts and humans to navigate. Dan flees with Danny to an iteration of the Dc universe and pokes around for a place to settle.

Metropolis's hero was an annoying goodie two shoes and he'd kill this "lex Luthor" the moment he heard the fucker speak. Plus, both rogues and hero's threw cars like baseballs.

Gotham was flooded with crime but their rouges were just people. Their heroes were just people. Crazy people sure, but Dan could kill them if they stepped out of line.

If only the self proclaimed hero's would stop trying to make grabs at his kid.

#dc x dp #dcxdp #please if anyone's played with Dan being Danny's father figure #give them toooooo meeeeee!!#doesn't matter if it's crossover related I just like the dynamic #Dan looking at the flaming dumpster fire of Gotham:#Dan: this is a perfect place to raise my child

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creedslove · 6 months

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WHO KNEW? 💍💔 - PART TWO

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

"You took my hand, you showed me how

You promised me you'd be around (...)

I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me (...)

If someone said three years from now, you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out, 'cause they're all wrong

I know better, 'cause you said forever, and ever, who knew?"

Summary: even against your wishes, your bond with the Millers straightens and a series of events causes you and Joel to get closer, enough to spike the fear of falling again for him

• This is the second part of Who Knew? 💍💔 Which was also inspired by this amazing HEADCANON request

Warnings: angst, broken hearts, mentions of divorce, mentions of infidelity, fluff, age gap (Joel is four to five years older than reader and the time skip is 12 to 14 years (Sarah's age) but feel free to imagine whatever you want), house breaking, protective Joel, sexual tension

A/N: so besties, I've been obsessed with this idea, and I hope you enjoy it as well! I mean, I've been writing a little more than 1k words a day, there were some parts I thought were good and some were not so good, as a final result, I don't know, I really hope you all enjoy it my lovelies! It's so hard to resist Joel, isn't it?

10.4k words

If someone told you one day, after a decade of being divorced from Joel due to the huge heartbreak he put you through, your bond with the Millers would straighten once more, you would stand up and punch them out. It was so ridiculously absurd to think you would become closer to the man who chewed you up and spat you out and even if he had indeed changed and was a better person, wasn't enough to make you forget what happened. Yes, you had forgiven him, but not forgotten what went on between the two of you, and even if a part of you desperately begged you to stay away and never talk to Joel again, destiny was pretty ironic at its doings and made you and his daughter, Sarah, become friends. You didn't mean to, and you were sure that if it were up to him, he wouldn't have said yes either, but you never knew she was his daughter and he never knew his daughter's friend was… well, you.

After he did some working at your home, he had asked you out, which you actually considered, but then dismissed the idea completely, there was no way you would put yourself through that again, even if he was even more handsome than when he was young, even if he did make your heart race and pound like you were some inexperienced teenager and even if late at night before falling asleep you closed your eyes and replayed in your mind the last kiss you cherished. Even if you focused hard enough and could still feel his warmth, the heavy grip of his hand on your waist, the way his beard that now was sprinkled with grays here and there scratched your skin and how Joel Miller still had the best kiss you'd ever tried. For a moment it had felt so right, even if it was wrong, and a hidden part of you, the part that just maybe didn't despise Joel that much often allowed you to wonder what would actually happen if you had given him a chance to take you out, would it have been really that bad? You would've gone somewhere to drink or grab something to eat, hang out, perhaps even dance and of course you would end up in Joel's bed, hardly any woman would pass up this opportunity. For a moment you wish it could've been that way, but unfortunately, you and Joel were done. After you turned him down you still shared a last kiss and then you both went back to your own lives, the only thing that connected the two of you in the past was the failed marriage you had just as the only thing that connected the two of you in the present was Sarah.

She was the loveliest girl you'd ever met in your life, so smart and sweet, always kind to everyone, responsible and even if you had had problems with her dad, you couldn't help but feel sorry for her and the fact her own mother didn't want to be around; it sounded crazy to you that woman could give up her chance of being the mother of a wonderful little girl like Sarah, even if Joel had killed any kind of desire of getting involved with someone to the point of building up a family. Not to mention Joel himself, he was a handsome, hard-working man, and he had been a good husband before Angela ruined your life. You knew she wasn't the only one to blame, Joel was a real dick, but now you certainly had two reasons to hate her: the fact she ruined your marriage and that she abandoned her daughter.

After Joel took over the renovations in your home, Sarah continued coming over and even if you felt sort of guilty from keeping the truth from her, you also knew it wasn't your place to tell her, if anything, you and Joel needed to do it together. You couldn't ruin the perfect image she had of her dad, because he was a great father to her and no one could deny that. Overall, you really enjoyed her presence; it wasn't uncommon for her to tag along during lunch time or spend the afternoon reading on your couch. Sometimes you wondered if she didn't have enough friends to hang out with, after all, Joel was busy throughout the day and any teen would take the opportunity of freedom to do whatever shit they wanted with them without having to give their parents the time of the day, but that didn't make any sense, not with Sarah being a sociable girl like she was, so when the realization that she sort of envisioned you as a motherly figure at some level, you felt quite shocked. If life hadn't pulled some unfunny tricks along your way, she could've easily been yours and Joel's daughter. You tried to shake it off and pretend she didn't see you that way, but looking back at your interactions it was undeniable; Sarah opened up to you about things she certainly didn't with Joel, from the pain of periods, to problems with girl friends and boys. It was amusing until Sarah began questioning you about it, asking you about your love life, past relationships and why you were single. You felt bad about not telling her the whole truth, but it was a complicated situation. Especially when she came up with the idea she really considered it to be genius

"Why don't you date my dad?!"

She asked you one lazy afternoon, making you choke softly at the water you were drinking, looking at her shocked and speechless for a while, her sweet smile was impossible to make you get mad at her, and above all it was a genuine question, she wasn't just messing with you.

"What?! My dad looks good, he works hard and he would make you very happy!" She cheered innocently, which caused your heart to sink.

"No… I wouldn't date your dad, he's incompatible… I mean, we are incompatible, I'm sure we wouldn't get along"

"Why?! Is it because you have more money than us? Dad does say you are way out of his league"

And you were shocked and speechless once more. Joel had talked about you to Sarah? And he had told her you were out of his league? This information should have made you scoff and roll your eyes, and not make your cheeks heat up while you blushed.

"No Sarah, Jesus no! It's got nothing to do with money or anything… I mean, your dad works hard and he should earn more than he does, because he is very dedicated and well, an honest working man like Joel can be worth a lot more than a rich guy, trust me" you sighed as she stared at you intently "but the thing is… I've been married once, I was too young, it was disastrous, it didn't work obviously, I got hurt and well… your dad sort of reminds me of him, my ex-husband I mean… It's hard to explain, but no, I wouldn't date your father"

You hated that you lied to her, well, half lies at least, but you wished you could be honest, Sarah was an important part of your life and it would be a lot easier if you three would come clean about everything that happened; on the other hand, you couldn't even imagine the mess you would make in her poor little head, as it was pretty messy and fucked up for you as well whenever you stopped to think you were friends with your ex-husband's daughter, the one he had with the woman he cheated on you with and that simply walked out and abandoned him. It even sounded made up, so you offered her just the piece of information you could. Sarah reached out to you, taking your hand in hers and caressing your knuckles, she gave you a sympathetic look and nodded

"I'm so sorry… I can't even imagine how you must feel, he didn't deserve you anyway, you can be sure you are way better than him, and well, I am just glad dad isn't like that, he's a nice guy, he would never do such a thing to anyone. I just feel like he deserved more too, you know? That woman… my mom, even if she shouldn't be called that, just broke his heart and disappeared. Uncle Tommy told me she never really wanted to have me in the first place and if it weren't for dad, you know…" She looked down trying to hide the thick sadness that fogged her face and it was your turn to reach to her, taking her hand, but seeing it wasn't enough as you got up and walked to Sarah, giving her a hug.

"I don't know, I just wish dad would find a nice girl like yourself and then he could be happy, I mean, we all could…"

•••

Joel groaned at how annoying his brother really was, he didn't get why Tommy would always pry into his fucking business instead of handling his own life, Joel was a grown man and he didn't need anyone trying to set him up with women or just inviting him out out of pity. He could take care of himself; he didn't need to meet women or be in a relationship, he was fine the way he was, his life was already way too hectic the way it was, whenever he felt lonely he could just pick up some woman at a bar and get laid and then go back to his everyday routine. And yet both Tommy and Sarah kept on getting on his nerves, always suggesting him to one girl or another or trying to drag him on double dates. When Sarah had casually told him to ask you out, completely oblivious to the fact he had already done it and you shut him out, Joel was at a loss of words, he tried playing cool but he couldn't deny the mess his feelings had become. He wasn't sure how to suppress them, not after that one kiss. That must've meant something, you wouldn't just give him a speech of how uninterested you were and how you two would never work out again and then kiss him like that, you probably still had feelings for him, if not feelings, at least desire, and as much as he would love to act on it, he didn't want to force things up, to he pushy and make you uncomfortable. He'd hurt you too many times to learn that if you'd asked him to stay away, he should stay away. Not only that, Tommy was completely onboard with everything you had said, to him, the fact Joel was crushing on his ex-wife more than a decade after breaking her heart was a clear sign of madness. He figured Joel still had feelings for you, even if Tommy wasn't one to settle down, he couldn't understand how his brother went from madly in love with his pretty young wife to a terrible husband and finally the asshole who dumped her for another woman. He knew that the passion Joel felt for Angela was strong, but even more than just a burning passion, lay that undying love he'd felt for you, and he was sure it wouldn't simply go away, which didn't necessarily mean that Joel surrendering to that love was a smart move. Quite the opposite, it was probably the dumbest thing Tommy had ever heard in his entire life. How could Joel even keep any hopes of getting with you again?! It hadn't worked, too many people got hurt and all he wanted was that his brother could actually see that, so he simply discouraged Joel from getting anywhere near you, as if it wasn't bad enough Sarah had been dragged accidentally into this story, he didn't want his brother suffering around. So he set his brother up on a date, something that Joel hated with passion but since he was feeling particularly hopeless that night he ended up accepting it.

He was usually very against being set up on blind dates, but Joel had created a depressing ritual of always going out and grabbing a drink whenever he came across the date that would've marked his wedding anniversary with you. Joel often heard men were forgetful and didn't remember important dates, but he had never been like that, always keeping the important dates fresh in his mind was something common, ever since he was a child, especially when they brought him strong emotions, such as the ones he shared with you. He thought it was a little stupid at first, but he found out that it helped him cope with the guilt and the doubts that always clouded up his mind. He would sit at a bar and wonder where you could be, how your life would have been like and if you ever thought of him. It sort of became his thing, but this year, for the first time, he knew the exact answers to his questions, and it was so odd, he decided to take Tommy's suggestions to go out with a friend of his brother's girlfriend, he didn't really care nor paid attention, he just exchanged numbers with her, showered and got dressed after work and headed for the restaurant.

And just as he had predicted, it had been another disastrous date. Not that the girl wasn't pretty, she was, but she was just exhausting; her conversation was tiring, her subjects were boring and overall, she just wasn't you. Joel didn't understand why he was having it so bad for you, he knew he shouldn't, he should forget about it all and focus on something else, but as much as he tried not to think of you, more he thought of you. It was maddening. He couldn't help himself but compare the two of you: you were prettier, smarter, funnier, you dressed and smelled better than that random stranger he saw himself being forced to have dinner with. And he wished with all his heart you could be on that date with him; if only you gave him just one chance to show you he was a better man, he would never hurt you like he did before, give you a chance to redeem himself and make you happy exactly the way you deserved it, he would be the happiest man in the world. Life wasn't gonna make things easier for him, and deep down, he knew he didn't even deserve it in the first place, so he tried once more paying attention to his date, which didn't last very long and the moment he saw the opportunity to leave, he grabbed it like a life preserver in the middle of the ocean and headed to a bar - alone, and only after paying for the check, after all, Joel Miller was still a gentleman.

Your wedding anniversary had always been a tricky date for you; there were years you went completely unaffected by it and years you felt like dying. For the first time, however, you were closer to Joel than you'd always been in the years before, and because of that, you decided you deserved better than just stay home and have some bland dinner by yourself, you would go out and perhaps meet other people… And your plan went really smoothly for a while; you got to a nice bar, dressed nicely, dragging some male attention towards you and even got paid a drink by a handsome stranger who waved from afar. It felt like a promising night, until Joel Miller walked in and looked for a table, and he looked devilish handsome as he did so. You bit your lips feeling the alcohol rushing towards one direction at the same time you censored yourself: no matter how lonely and needy you were feeling nor how handsome he was, you couldn't simply feel the hots for him. As if he'd just read your mind, Joel turned around, his eyes falling right on you, his gaze softened up and you saw him running his tongue through his lips, deciding whether or not to walk towards you.

Of course he did it.

The moment he approached, Joel noticed the sadness in your eyes and he was sure you were the for the exact same reason he was, and it was just another motive to get closer to you; taking the chair next to you, he asked the bartender for a drink and as soon as he had it in hands, he stared at you.

"Happy wedding anniversary, darling" he tilted his glass against yours, as you just nodded and took a long sip.

"Happy wedding anniversary, handsome" you replied in a mockery tone using the old nickname you used for him. Handsome was a word that really described him, your Joel. He had always been a handsome man, but how well time treated him was impressive to say the least. He looked so good, he was bigger, broad and stronger. His dark hair had become a little grayer, just like a few patches all over his beard, and that suited him like a damn velvet glove. The way his shirt hung tight around his shoulders and down his arms, eyes lingering on him for way too long, as a warmth spread through your cheek and Joel chuckled

"Funny how you still blush when I'm around… Exactly like old times" he grinned and took another sip of his drink, which was enough to break you free from the spell you were under.

"What are you doing here? I thought I'd made myself pretty clear, Joel" you sighed and stared down into your glass.

"I'm doing the same as you are, darling… I'm thinking about all the bad decisions I made in life. You have been pretty clear, I ain't going to bother you, but I just missed you… it's so weird to see Sarah getting home everyday so excited over you, talking about how nice and awesome you are and I have to pretend not to know about it"

"Yeah? And you think it's easy for me to spend the whole afternoon listening to her talking about what an amazing dad you are? How you are awesome but very unlucky to have had your heartbroken by her mom?" You raised your eyebrow and chuckled

"She really say that?" Joel's expression showed a slight shock "she said I was an amazing dad?!"

You tilted your head at his surprise and bit your lips, perhaps it was just the drinks you had that softened you up a little, but when you saw it, you placed your hand on his arm and shook your head

"Yeah? Why are you so surprised? You are an amazing dad, Joel… that girl loves you more than anything in the world, she idolizes you, of course, she thinks you work too much and that you could both spend some more time together, but other than that, it's clear you are a great father. I was very surprised when we met again, to see your change, I never really thought you would become a better person, not after what happened, but it's nice to see Sarah changed that" you smiled softly at him, and that just melted Joel's rough heart, he immediately took your hand before you could move it away and caressed your knuckles softly, his gaze still making you pathetically shy, as he pursed his lips and you remembered how good they've always felt on your own and also all over your body.

"You know she also sees you as a mother figure, right?!"

"Yeah, I was reluctant to admit it at first, but she does… I guess she needed that, you know? A woman she could talk to about girl stuff, things she cannot talk to her dad or her uncle Tommy" you smiled "I really like Sarah and I'm very glad you allow us to be friends, I understand it is a really odd situation for you, as it is for me, but I like her a lot… you know, if things had been different, she could've been my daughter… our daughter" you sighed "things could've been different Joel… you know what made so hard for me to forgive you? It's not exactly you falling for Angela, of course, rejection hurts a lot, but sometimes it happens, sometimes you fall for someone you shouldn't have, but what still breaks my heart is that you lied to me, you played with me instead of coming clean. You just kept me around even if you didn't want me anymore, so just you would have a comfortable option in case it didn't work with her, and that was what made me feel worse… it made me feel unworthy, because you could still have been considerate of me and just break things up before it all happened" you shrugged

"Darling, I-" he squeezed your hand tighter but you pulled it away

"I'm not trying to make you upset or anything, all I am saying is that things could have been different between us, they should have been at least, if not staying married, having a child and building a family together, then at least having your honesty…"

"What can I do so you forgive me?" Joel asked, his voice breaking a little as he tried to hide the emotion growing at any minute.

"I've already forgiven you Joel, I already told you that… but I can't forget what happened, it will always haunt me" you sighed "too many things happened and as much as I had loved you, I think I would never be able to trust you"

"Please, I have changed, it kills me to know I've hurt you so much, I wish I could go back in time and undo everything that I did.. please, darling" Joel begged you with those brown soft eyes, his hand cupping your cheek in a warm caress and even if you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch for a while, you knew you couldn't let yourself fall into his touch, because if you did, there would be no turning back.

"If Angela returned today, Joel… imagine if she came back and tried claiming you and Sarah, would you still care about me? Because I don't see this happening, Joel. Honestly, what I think is that you want me because you feel bad about what happened and because you couldn't have who you really wanted…"

His expression was indecipherable and for a second you thought he would say something, but all he did was pull you closer, gluing your lips together in an urgent kiss, you could've fought it, but you didn't; instead, you kissed him back, taking your hands into his curls and tugging at them more and more each time Joel pulled you even closer.

Only when the two of you broke the kiss, he looked into your eyes, his thumb stroking your bottom lip gently

"There isn't anyone I want but you, I never stopped loving you, darling… even when Angela was around, she couldn't compare to you" his words shattered your heart, as much as you wanted to believe that, you still couldn't. You grabbed his hand and sighed

"Don't do this again, Joel, please. You've ruined too many things for me already…" you got up and said goodbye "we can't, you know it"

"What have I ruined for you, darling? Tell me and I'll fix it, please"

You chuckled sad and shrugged

"Joel, you even ruined Queen for me'

You walked away from him, leaving him there with his drink and his thoughts, a puzzled look out of confusion in his face trying to figure out exactly what the hell you meant by that. Just as he saw you disappear out of the door, he realized what meant as he paid attention to the lyrics of the song playing in background:

"Love of my life, you hurt me

You've broken my heart

And now you leave me

Love of my life, can't you see (...)"

And even if Joel wanted to be rational and convince himself he'd lost you for good, his heart still insisted on wanting what he couldn't have.

•••

Your car parked in Joel's driveway was the last thing he expected to see that night, after working excruciatingly and failing his promise of getting home earlier to have dinner with his daughter. He knew Sarah was probably waiting, disappointed but also used to it, full of having some sandwich or any other snack she could find. He cursed himself for getting so caught up at work, he didn't mean to, but he had done it again, after all, he had to attend an important meeting with a possible new client and then he would need to wait for the arrival of a bunch of materials that had been delayed for weeks, and even if he knew his daughter was safe with you, he still felt upset to have not given her the attention she needed. However, you had never been to his house before, that was something that you established from the very beginning and when he kissed you at the bar a couple of weeks ago, Joel was certain that was the end of seeing you, occasionally or not. He was sure you'd never shut Sarah out, you liked her for real, and she reciprocated the feelings; besides, you were a decent enough human being who knew you didn't have to mix things up. So, the fact you were indeed at his home, was concerning to him, who parked and immediately left, getting inside wanting to see what was going on. The moment the door opened in one hard swing, you got off the couch and walked to your ex-husband

“Hey Joel” you said, a little shy, suddenly, the fact you were standing in the middle of his home uninvited made you extremely embarrassed, as it felt you were somehow intruding on his intimacy. Since the divorce Joel had moved into a new house, bigger and cozier, a nice backyard with a decent swimming pool was something that drew your attention; you smiled at yourself, knowing how much Joel loved swimming, so it made your heart warm to see he had accomplished something that seemed quite small, but it meant a lot to you.

At first, when you saw the house, you couldn't help but be invaded by a furious jealousy of the possibility Joel had built that house for her, Angela, instead of you. Luckily, Sarah clarified he only started to build it when she was a toddler and that Tommy helped him, and that's why he often crashed there. You chuckled to yourself, that was typical of Tommy, but overall you felt proud of Joel and everything he achieved, you knew he had potential and it was great that he actually worked on it.

“Where's Sarah?!” He asked with worry and called her name once more, louder this time, frowning as you shushed him.

“I'm sorry I'm here, but she had a fever felt sick, I wanted to call you but she asked me not to an-” you were cut off by Joel simply climbing up the stairs and heading straight to Sarah's room, he felt a mix of guilt and worry weighing in his heart at the fact his baby daughter was sick and he couldn't be there for her. He barged into her room, normally, that would be enough to startle her, but instead, he found her peacefully asleep, clung tight to her pillow, dressed in her regular PJs. He touched her forehead wanting to check her temperature, but luckily her skin wasn't warm anymore. He looked at the door and found you there, arms folded and looking like you wanted to say something else, and then he just realized how rude he'd actually been to you by simply walking away and letting you talk to a brick wall. He placed a gentle kiss on his daughter's forehead and closed the door behind him.

“I'm sorry darling, I was worried and you should've called me…”

“It's okay, Joel… as I was saying, I wanted to call you, but Sarah asked me not to, she said you were having an important meeting and you would be home soon, anyway” you licked your lips as you realized he was extremely late and probably feeling so guilty about it all.

“You know, she was at my place and she was feeling a little down, at first I thought she was just upset because she wasn't invited to Melissa's party an-”

“That girl is a bitch” Joel said angrily and in such a defensive way that it was both cute he was so protective of his daughter at the same time it sounded hilarious to see him cursing another teenage girl. However, you had to agree with him, Melissa was indeed a bitch.

“Yeah, I know right?! Anyway, I noticed Sarah was burning up with fever and since she didn't want me to call you, I decided to bring her home and stay with her. So I asked her to take a cool shower, gave her some tylenol and made her some chicken soup with the things I found in your kitchen…” you both went downstairs and stopped in his living room. You tried not paying attention to how good your ex-husband looked after his long hour shift; his sweaty shirt so tight against his broad chest, his messy hair and that stressed attitude that would always melt away with a very intense orgasm.

“You made soup?!” Joel frowned a little shocked and interrupted your drifting thoughts.

“Y-yeah, why? Did I do bad?”

“No” Joel smiled softly and shook his head “not at all, it's just that… I haven't had your food in so long and you've always been a good cook, that's all” the nostalgia he felt was so big and it also warmed your heart, nodding at him “well, I made some more in case you wanted to have dinner too, it's in the kitchen, you can help yourself if you'd like…” you offered him and grabbed your purse “can you call me tomorrow and let me know if Sarah is better?”

Joel grabbed your arm gently and shook his head

“Don't go, not yet… just have dinner with me, talk to me for a while, I promise I won't try to kiss you or anything. Just keep me company, it's rare to have people over, it's usually Sarah and I and usually Tommy, but when they are out, it's just me” he looked at you with a sad expression, and you understood perfectly: loneliness.

Coming back home to an empty bed at night. Not having anyone to rely on, to hold, to give you support and affection, to make love. So you nodded and smiled at him, sitting down with him at the table and grabbed yourself a plate, giggling at how hungry he really was, eating as if he hadn't seen food in months. He raised his eyes at you and stopped chewing, blushing as you wouldn't stop staring.

“You know, you and Sarah have the same sad puppy eyes when you are sick?!” Joel raised his eyebrow at you and you laughed softly “same red teary eyes, sniffing as someone takes care of you, it's actually adorable”

“You think I'm adorable?!”

“Adorable isn't exactly what you are Joel…” you said letting your eyes wandering all over him and having your ex-husband to smirk at you

“Yeah? You think I'm attractive?”

“You know you are attractive, Joel, now shut up and eat” you frowned softly and had dinner with him; it was a pleasant moment, spending some time together, without any talks about the divorce or the past, just two old acquaintances who perhaps had some kind of feelings for each other and shared a meal together. There weren't accusations, apologies or tears, just mundane, regular conversations and laughter. It was nice to have that moment with Joel, as you both progressed in a conversation about your lives and how things had changed over the years, truly catching up instead of arguing. When the subjected revolved around Sarah again, your ex-husband couldn't contain his curiosity anymore:

“You never wanted kids, darling?”

You looked down at your empty plate, a glimmer of sadness crossing your eyes as you shook your head and stared at him

“Not after you, Joel… I used to want a kid, before, when we were together, but not anymore. I feel it's too late for me now, even if I'm still young, it just feels impossible, you know?”

Joel's hand rested on top of yours, he caressed it very gently and looked at you. He sighed knowing exactly what you meant, knowing you actually meant having a baby together and of course he blew it once more. He couldn't even describe the remorse he felt, even if you had spent the past half an hour having a rare moment of bliss tougher, he knew he would never be able to erase what had happened between the two of you. He wished he had a chance to do so, but deep inside, even if he did, he knew the damage had been done.

“It's alright, Joel…” you said shyly and got up as you picked the plates and piled them in the sink, he immediately walked to you,

“Let me handle the dishes, it's the least I can do, you know… after you took care of my daughter and cooked for us. I'm sure Sarah loved it, we aren't used to having homemade food” he chuckled as you nodded

“Yeah, I figured, that's why I decided to make something else…” you said as you walked to the oven and opened it, showing Joel the freshly baked batch of chocolate chips cookies. He widened his eyes like a child and smiled big.

“This is your favorite, I figured it was Sarah's as well” you said sweetly and got the tray out of the oven, although you mumbled something a couple of times, Joel hadn't replied to you, as he kept washing the plates without interruption. You didn't get why he ignored your question, it made no sense; just a few minutes ago you were both having a nice, sweet time together and suddenly he wasn't going to say anything? That was odd. You placed the cookies on the balcony and called him again, to which you got no reply so you just shook his arm a little calling him again.

He turned around and watched you

“What is it?” He asked with a sweet smile, making you even more confused

“I called you a couple of times and you didn't say anything… is everything alright with you?” And at that question his face fell and it was impossible for Joel to hide his sadness. He licked his lips and nodded

“Yeah… it's just that… I'm kinda deaf in my right ear” he blushed and looked down in shame “I had a work accident some years ago and something blew up when I stood too close to it and well…” he shrugged and you felt your heart sink. Your poor Joel, always such a hardworking man, despite everything between you both, you never wanted him to be that injured. It saddened you to see how ashamed he seemed of it, even if he had no reason to be ashamed of it at all, and suddenly it made all sense to you why he was always subtly tilting his head to the left or standing towards that direction when he talked to you.

“I can hear it just fine, got used to it by now, but if you mumble something on my right it's kinda hard to me” the simple and even innocent way he said that made you so sympathetic of him, but it was way more than just that. It made you want to hold him, to assure him it was fine and he was still nothing but perfect no matter what had happened.

“Oh Joel…” you whispered and held his head in both of your hands, gently, your fingers brushing against his thick beard as you got closer and rested your forehead against his “I'm so sorry honey” you whispered again and closed your eyes. He was determined to respect you and not get handsy with you, but the moment he saw you pulling him closer, he couldn't help doing the same; gripping your waist with large hands, just like he used to, exactly where they fit so well, he brought your bodies close together.

“Don't go, please… stay” he whispered back, his lips were almost on yours, everything felt so right at that moment even if it was wrong. You hated how it felt like playing with fire: it seemed beautiful and appealing but you would get burned no matter what.

“I'm sorry, you know I can't” you said, moving your lips just an inch further and connecting with his, earning a hungry kiss.

For someone who desperately wanted to keep away from their ex-husband, you were certainly doing a shitty job. He needed you as much as you needed him, you both wanted each other, but you broke the kiss. It couldn't happen, your relationship was as complicated as it was and you didn't want to deal with that responsibility later. His heavy breathing lingered on your skin, at the same time he placed a soft peck on your neck, knowing all your sweet spots, that devilish man Joel Miller was.

“You know you can call me, right? Anything you need, anything at all, just call me and I'll come running to you, darling, don't forget that” he whispered into your ear and more than a seducing invitation, it was a plea, from a hopelessly man in love who didn't know what to do to prove his worth.

•••

Joel's offer to call him whenever you needed was so tempting, because you didn't actually need to call him, but you wanted to. It made no sense, you were the one who wanted to keep your distance from him, but due to the latest events you found yourself wanting to see Joel each time more, just the thought of his presence brought you an excitement you tried not reading too much into it; you didn't want to admit you were crushing on your ex-husband, but then, how could you call the fact your heart raced when you saw him? How you blushed and felt sparkles whenever you touched him briefly - accidentally or not? It was tricky, it was a mess but it seemed Joel made you lose that filter that always kept you emotionally distant from everyone. After learning Sarah was alright, you felt relieved for her, and when she stopped by your home and thanked you for taking care of her, you felt that familiar warmth in your heart. It seemed the more your rational part fought for you to stay away, that you had been severely hurt by Joel and you couldn't afford giving him a chance to do the same for the second time, but your irrational side? The one driven by your feelings and desires?! That one only made you dive deeper into the Millers household. Your feelings for Sarah just grew, you were attached to her and she was attached to you, she found in you the female influence it lacked for years and she represented something you never had but wished you could. And her dad was something else… ever since that evening you spent together, having dinner, chatting and enjoying each other's company, Joel had told you you could call him anytime for any reason. It didn't matter if you wanted to talk, hang out or have him fix something at your place, he was at your will.

And then you weren't certain if your faucet was really leaking, or if your door was actually warped or if all of that had to do with the fact you were looking for an excuse to call Joel and see him. You didn't want to hire him and you didn't want to discuss feelings, talk about the past or hear all sorts of apologies, you wanted to have a nice, pleasant moment with him, just like you had the last time. It felt so familiar and yet so new; it was about the two of you being acquaintances but at the same time meeting each other, your older, more mature versions finally getting together and hitting off. That was the kind of interaction you wanted from Joel.

You just didn't know exactly how to initiate it, not without giving him any kind of hope or leading him into it.

So you decided to focus on work, like you'd been doing for over a decade. You liked your job, it was stressful as any other job in the world and the money was great. However, you had got so comfortable and used to working from home, the days you were forced to actually go to the office felt excruciating, but it was part of the deal and you had to do it. So you got up, got ready - not without texting Sarah to let her know you wouldn't be home that day - and went to do your business. It was also when you noticed something was wrong. You didn't know the car that was parked across the street, it was a little odd, as you got used to all your neighbors and it was such a calm neighborhood you simply noticed when there was someone from outside. Still, you shrugged and got into your own car, driving to work.

On your way back, all you wanted was a cool shower and some relaxing hours scattered on the couch, but you tensed up a bit when you spotted the same car you did in the morning still there. It had nothing indicating trouble, and yet, you had a gut feeling telling you it simply wasn't right, however, there was nothing you could really do about it. You thought of calling Joel, but you didn't want to risk sounding paranoid and overall crazy. What could you tell him?! That there was a car parked across the street?!

You groaned when you checked your email and saw you would have to attend a meeting at work in person the next day. You were so sure you'd solved everything up, so why would you have to go? It was probably one of those meetings that could be just a work email and it annoyed you to no end, but still, you had no other option other than attending so the next morning you were there, getting ready when you spotted the same car. You had no idea if it had spent the whole night there or if it had gotten there before you woke up, nonetheless, you were taken by the same feeling you did the day before, no matter if they were irrational or not, it was just overwhelming. After another day at work, you returned home and sighed relieved to see the car wasn't there. Maybe it had been just a paranoid episode, perhaps you were just reading too much into things and all the stress from work combined with your situation with Joel made you lose your grip on reality a little bit.

The fact was that after doing your regular house things, you decided to take a relaxing bath and sink yourself into your tub. Selecting the perfect bath bomb and adjusting the temperature, you got inside, groaning at how the warm water made your tense muscles relax and you could feel the knots undoing themselves; as you closed your eyes and relaxed, there was nothing clouding up your mind but Joel.

His handsome face, his smile, his curly graying hair. He was your Joel, but older, mode handsome, if that was even a thing, because Joel was definitely the most handsome man you'd ever met. You couldn't help yourself but picture him wrapping his strong arms around your body, perhaps a relaxing bath with Joel would feel so good, you wouldn't be able to to turn it down. Just to imagine his naked body holding yours was enough to spike so many things all over you. You didn't know if you'd ended up dozing off in the tub, but it was hard to say if any time had passed or not the moment you heard some noises around your house. You couldn't remember if you'd forgotten your TV on or something like that, you were sure you hadn't turned on the radio, but it was enough to feel goosebumps all over your skin. You left the tub, drying yourself as quick as possible and wrapping a bathrobe around your body, exiting the room as silently as you could, hearing whispering and steps all over the lower floor. You went to your room and looked outside the window, your heart racing the moment you spotted the same car you'd seen before. You didn't know what to do, you could feel the suffocating wave of anxiety taking over completely. You could hear their voices, because apparently there was more than one guy. They were robbing your home, but what would happen if they reached you? You immediately locked your bedroom door, so relieved to see your phone was thrown onto the bed. Grabbing it, you dialed the number you'd never forgotten.

•••

“Come on, darling, open up” Joel's voice was the first thing you registered after you made the call, hugged yourself against a corner of your room and closed your eyes. You had heard footsteps climbing the stairs and how the thieves banged on your door, but you remained as quiet as you could. Just praying someone would show up to save you. You'd called Joel and he called the cops on his way over, he had dropped everything he was doing when he heard the raw fear in your voice. It was horrible you had your home broken into, but it made it even worse to think of what two criminals could do with such a beautiful woman like yourself. So he grabbed Tommy and they both rushed towards your place. Arriving there almost at the same time as the cops did, finding your front door busted open and a lot of valuable things such as your TV and your laptop gone. He had a baseball bat in hands, ready to attack whoever threatened your physical integrity and when he got questioning looks from the cop, he cleared his throat and explained he was your ex-husband - and friend.

“Is that really you, Joel?” You asked in a little more than a whisper, so glad to know he was there. You walked to the door and unlocked it, seeing Joel's worried eyes scanning you to make sure you were unharmed. Only then, you realized you hadn't gotten dressed, still wrapped in your bathrobe, but it didn't matter, all you could think of was looking for shelter into his strong, safe arms, sinking your face into his chest at the same time Joel caressed your back up and down, his lips planted a kiss on top of your head and another one on your forehead, wanting to soothe you and show you how safe you were from now on. He was there for you, it wouldn't absolve him from what he'd done in the past, but that didn't even matter to you or Joel, the important thing was that he was there, he came as fast as he could only for you and he would do it a thousand times more if necessary; you both knew that.

“I got you, baby girl, I got you” Joel cooed at you, tightening the hug around your body and keeping you closer. And you had missed that embrace, you just belonged in it, and you never wanted to let go.

Joel held you through the whole process of talking to the cops, informing them about the strange car that was seen around your home and also listing every item they stole: your TV, an iPad, your laptop and your car. Even if you were safe among them, you couldn't help but feel that nervous, anxious feeling at the very possibility of being alone at home once more. Nothing happened in the end, but it could have happened, and though it sucked to have been robbed of so much valuable stuff, you weren't harmed, and that was what mattered the most to you and above all, Joel.

As the cops talked to Joel and assured they'd get in touch if any of it was found, he walked them to the door and turned back to you, finding you all shy and scared, hugging yourself and looking at him with sad eyes. You didn't want to be alone and you didn't want to have to ask him for company, you didn't want to sound whiny or pathetic, especially not after it was just a break-in without any physical damage.

“Come on, pack your bags and I'll take you home with me” Joel's voice broke the silence and made you stare at him surprised “it can be for a few days, but if you aren't comfortable with that, then let me take you at least for the night, I ain't leaving you alone. Sarah's out at her friends in a slumber party or something, you can take her bed, or mine and I'll sleep on the couch, it doesn't matter, just come…” he extended his hand to you, which you gladly took it, and made his way upstairs, waiting patiently as you grabbed a backpack and shoved a few clothes and accessories you would need. You couldn't even describe how you felt at Joel's kindness. You were so comforted, so glad to see you weren't alone and that he was willing to take care and protect you. It didn't take very long to get your backpack ready, wrapping your arms around his neck in another tight hug, thanking him for being so gentle and earning only reassuring and affectionate words.

Once you got to the truck, you were welcomed by a whiff of his familiar scent, it smelled like Joel, your Joel and your heart warmed. He glanced at you while he drove, still seeing the tension all over you and his hand rested on your knee “you must be hungry…”

“I am” you said, a little anxious and watched as he turned the wheel and changed streets. Even before getting to the address, you already knew where Joel was taking you: your favorite Taco place. You chuckled as you remembered that was your favorite date spot when you were painfully young; when life seemed so promising and Joel Miller was the man who made you stutter and sweat through your hands. Whenever he glanced towards you, your cheeks would heat up and you would feel like bursting into flames. And after you both got married, when things were still good, that was the place where he would stop by eventually, pick up some takeout and take home, as a way of spoiling and thanking you for taking care of him. As he parked, he smiled and cleared his throat.

“You know, this is our spot, I never brought any girl here, with the exception of Sarah, of course, but much to my disappointment, she isn't really into tacos, which makes it exclusively our thing” he winked at you and you nodded, a small, petty side of you felt thankful for the confirmation of Angela never been there with Joel. It was just a taco shop and yet, it was still one thing that it was so yours and Joel's and she hadn't ruined it with her touch. You felt even hungrier at that moment, relaxing to know you could have a peaceful dinner with your good memories and the man who somehow still managed to make you blush, stammer a little and sweat through your hands.

As you both munched on the food sitting down in the back of his truck, just like you did every Friday night more than a decade ago, you chuckled at how things change but somehow remain the same. He tilted his head to the side, wiping a little bit of sauce you had over your cheek, exactly like when you both were younger.

“I know this probably tastes like shit, compared to the food you've had over the years when you traveled all over the world, you know Sarah told me all about it because she really admires you an-”

You took his hand and squeezed it, then placed your hand on his chin making him look into your eyes.

“Joel… this is the best taco I've ever had, the most delicious takeout I've ever tried because you are here with me..” she whispered and smiled, seeing how his face lit up. Neither of you said it, but you were finally having that date he asked you out several months ago, when destiny decided to put the two of you together. As he saw you shivering in the cold wind, he did the honorable thing and took off his jacket, placing it over your shoulder and rubbing both of your arms. You thanked him and looked all over his truck

“We spent quite a while in here…” you shrugged “and to think I lost my virginity here… you've always been a real gentleman” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. Joel laughed and sighed

“Yeah, well, I've come along nicely, give me a chance and I'll show you” he winked, flirting a little as you shook your head in disbelief.

“Are you serious?! Fuck off, Joel Miller! No guy will ever fuck me in the back of a truck, and especially not you!” You slapped his arm playfully, hugging it and resting your chin on his shoulder, feeling the wind against your face and looking up at him.

“Joel? Can you do us both a favor?” He nodded at you wanting to hear whatever question you had to ask him “please don't let Sarah marry the first asshole she falls in love with”

“I'm on it” he replied, laughing softly and pulling you closer. Closer than you'd ever been to him, he just wished that night wouldn't end too soon.

•••

Lying in Sarah's bed was odd, to say the least; especially when Joel's room was just there, a hallway distant from you. After the moment - better saying, the moments you both had shared in the past few days and even more so that night, you felt things would escalate to another level, a level in which it didn't matter to you if it was right or wrong, It was just bound to happen. But once you got to his home, he showed you his daughter's room, the bathroom, and asked if you needed anything else and simply let you be. Which was what you wanted, it was what you had asked him to do the last time you'd shared a kiss, but at the same time you felt disappointed because you wanted more of him, more of your Joel. The sweet moments you'd spent together were weighing so heavily in your heart, and even if you hadn't forgotten about what happened, the new proximity brought a new light in your relationship with Joel; it felt nice and different, a good different and as much as you closed your eyes and tried falling asleep, you were simply taken back to the moment he held you, soothed you, caressed your skin and assured you everything was alright. Tossing and turning in bed while you wished you were somewhere else instead, anywhere really, as long as he was just next to you. At first, when the gentle strumming from the guitar got to your ears, you imagined you had dozed off for a few minutes, perhaps you had even started to dream, but when your eyes were wide open and the beautiful, familiar sound wouldn't cease, you knew that only meant one thing: Joel was playing the guitar.

It couldn't come from his bedroom, the sound was too far to be coming from there, so you knew you would have to get up and explore. Suddenly, you felt a wave of excitement. Not only did you love watching Joel play the guitar, but now you had a pretty decent and reasonable excuse to go after him. You didn't want to make things weird and be that kind of person to leave the other confused, with your dubious signs, but you were just following your heart at that moment.

You tiptoed through his house, doing your best to move in the dark, as you didn't want to startle Joel or make him think you wanted the music to stop. And then your heart skipped a beat when you looked through the window and saw him playing the guitar on his porch. The cold wind that bothered you when you both were out eating tacos seemed to have stopped, and just then you realized it was indeed warm inside the house. He was so relaxed, strumming his guitar and humming a song softly, you've always loved his singing voice, even if he was a little shy about it, you could sit down and watch him play and sing for hours. You opened the door quietly and rested against the doorframe, admiring it quietly the way he looked focused at his guitar. He played calmly and it was the most beautiful sight you could ever think of. You wouldn't be able to tell exactly how long you stood there, but when Joel looked up at you, you were already walking towards him.

“That was beautiful, Joel…”

“Just like you are, darlin'”

You both knew exactly what you wanted at that moment, how you took another step closer, one after the other and you suddenly were hovering over him. Joel placed his guitar down, he wasn't going to be able to hold himself back, not at that moment. In one single motion, he pulled you to him by the hips, a tight grasp around your body and kissing you deeply. You straddled Joel, your hands making their familiar way towards his curls, loving how they always felt under your touch. Unlike the other times you'd kissed, you knew you would both go all the way down, you wanted it, craved it and even if you knew what to do and where to touch, it also felt new, you were both were the same young couple who'd been so in love, newly married and full of hopes and dreams, but you were also a couple who'd lived separately for more than a decade, you had both experienced heartbreaks, passions, you'd tried and touched other people, but eventually, just like home, it you were drawn to each other. There was no way out. When you were shamelessly humping and groaning on top of him, Joel knew it was time to take things inside, to hell with his neighbors, he didn't care if any of them witnessed it, if anything, he wanted people to see what a lucky bastard he was to have you in his arms, that he was going to take you and make you his at least once more. So he got up, lifting you up easily, so easily, and took you inside, climbing stairs with you in his arms, he longed for you, he was hungry for your body, your taste, your touch. He needed you and Joel Miller was about to take it all. He placed you over his mattress and got rid of his shirt - his dark blue one, that looked so good on him - and let your hands wander his body. He didn't take long to undress you, nibbling your thighs in the process, he knew your body like the palm of his hand, with the exception the last time he'd visited it, his palm wasn't as calloused as it was now, just as you weren't so painfully hot as you were at that moment. You'd always been gorgeous, but at that moment, naked in his bed, it was the most beautiful and erotic thing he'd ever seen and yet he wanted it to make it forever. As he got inside of you, he didn't know how long it would last, how long you both would last, you were being way nicer and more compassionate than he would ever deserve it, but at the same time, something within said you shared the same feelings for each other.

Once you both reached your bliss, love bites, kissings, caresses and so much affection between you both, you relaxed into his arms, your head resting comfortably in his chest, and you felt at home. You still didn't know what the next day would bring you both. Perhaps you would stay together, or you would part ways for good, there was still so much to be done, to spoken, you would have to handle the fact and the consequences of not using protection with Joel, maybe that was a good reason to worry about , or not, you didn't want to think of it, just as you didn't want to think of how you both could ever explain to Sarah what happened, or how Joel would explain Tommy and you would explain your family how you got together, maybe even one day Angela could return, you'd learned the hard way life wasn't a bed of roses and you feared that if you agreed to be happy with Joel once more you would get hurt, one way or another, but all that wasn't important, not at that moment. All it mattered was you and your Joel in bed, snuggled up and worrying about nothing but each other. He nuzzled your neck, making you giggle and in return you pecked his lips once more. He wanted to say those three little words, but decided not to, not yet, instead, he wanted to show you it, now he'd had a taste of you, and he vowed himself to make you happy for the rest of his life.

He knew he had broken your heart, it was the worst thing Joel Miller had ever done, but he was going to win you back, because he wasn't going to give up happiness with you, not again.

____

A/N: besties, how did I do? Did you like it? I hope you did! I honestly had planned on writing a sad ending, I was going to make reader move on from Joel once for all, but then, is it even possible to get over him? It's impossible not to fall for him and give him a second chance. A third part is possible but I have no idea when, and feedback is always welcome my lovelies ❤️💕

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oharabunny · 7 months

Text

His Cheating Allegations

Description: Going off of my yandere!caretaker!Miguel idea, here's what I think of him in regards to him cheating.

Word Count: 798

Warning: mentions of sex, cheating Miguel, OOC!Miguel, obsession, delusion, not beta read, completely self indulgent fantasies of the author

He has a past of cheating, and he's not proud of it. But ever since he met you, he knew that he would move heaven and earth, the multiverse if you will, just for you. You are literally his whole universe.

He can't really look at other women (or anyone of any gender) the same anymore. Nobody quite compares to you.

You don't really see how because you're dysfunctional and useless to him. You wonder if he's seeing someone else in you.

He doesn't, because there aren't any variants of you across the multiverse.

But still, you think you're a dime a dozen as far as your personality and looks goes. And most people would agree with you.

Which is why it's a mystery how there are still some women that want to throw themselves at him even when he's busy ogling at you through his orange screens.

Maybe they thought they could compete with you.

(To you, they probably could. They'd be more intelligent, useful, witty, pretty, and hard working than you.)

What you and them don't know is that it is going to be a huge challenge to get him to cheat on you.

He's not necessarily infalliable, yes, he can fold, but under very certain circumstances.

Such as, if he was away from home for too long and cannot keep his pent up feelings to himself. He would need the other woman to face away from him, mask on, quiet, body shaped, and skin tone similiarly to yours in order to go through with it. He has to imagine you and your face in order to immerse himself with her.

Even then, it's still not the same and he knows, and realistically, he'll stop midway because it just won't feel as good.

On top of the fact he doesn't want to hurt you. He doesn't want to give you a reason to leave him.

(He would keep it a secret to himself to the day he dies.)

Which is why he's even more reluctant to cheat on you even if he does find someone else attractive because he has to make sure they're completely clean. He can't risk giving you a disease. You're a fragile and helpless being where anything can kill you. (Well, that's just what he thinks.) Your health and wellbeing is above all else.

Plus, he doesn't really have the time to cheat. He's too invested in both you and keeping the balance of the multiverse. You think he has time to go looking around?

Even the most persistent homewreckers will eventually tire out from their attempt to break his gaze on you.

Even the desperate ones.

Here's a scenario:

Other Woman: Miguel~ I'd do anything for you. Please, just give me a chance! I don't even mind being your second wife if I have to.

Miguel: Then would you be able to bear the responsibilities of taking care of my "first" wife above yourself? You'll need to take care of our children too. Fill in for me whenever I'm not home to take care of her. You have to understand that I will always put her, our children, her pets, and her belongings before you. That also means if she doesn't want me to touch you, I won't. Also, if you and I have children, they won't be your children anymore.

Also Miguel: Wait, if I let you take care of her, she might like you more than me and leave me. Nah, fuck that, I don't want you getting in between us.

Other Woman: Okay damn! You psycho! 😥

I don't think he'd do well in a poly relationship like a triad or separate relationship either. In a triad, he'd be threatened by them taking you or even you preferring them slightly more than him in any way. He has to be your number one and only. Even if the dynamics were in his favor, he's so so into you that he's very biased to give all his attention to you since sex for him is about pleasuring you. He wouldn't be a good partner for the third person if they value his attention and care too (they'd be cucked and forgotten most of the time💀). He also doesn't have the time to keep up with other relationships.

Back to the idea of him cheating on you, another way to increase his chances of cheating on you is if you consistently reject his advances and feelings for you. He might do it out of spite and sexual frustration, but he wouldn't find any joy in it especially when he realizes you don't care and you just want to leave. He'd be busy trying to manipulate you into depending on him.

Either way.

He is a you simp through and through.

A/N: This is super self indulgent as you can tell. This will never be who Miguel is canonically nor is it super realistic, but wishful thinking yknow? 🤷‍♀️

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kitkatopinions · 30 days

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When people talk about how "rwde is mad that RWBY subverts expectations" I wonder how much of what's considered subverting expectations is actually ignoring set up, doing things out of nowhere, and actually doing a popular and very much so expected thing.

Like don't get me wrong, I do think sometimes people have ideas for what RWBY should've been and then think that it was more set up then it actually was. Like, people who took Blake saying she grew up outside the kingdoms and had to learn to fight to mean "I am an orphan and spent my whole life on the streets" that then got mad when Blake had pretty big house and parents. I might agree that RWBY perhaps shouldn't have given Blake the privileges they gave her specifically because of how they decided to use her to tell the other Faunus to stop being mean to their oppressors (though I'd sooner throw that part out than get rid of Blake being the daughter of a leader with a big house,) but I don't think it was pulling the rug out from under people the way some people do.

However, then you have things like Adam, where some people in RWDE are saying "he was set up as this interesting character who would be an ideological foil for Blake that cared about the cause and his people, and it felt like he'd be used as a way to talk about the injustice in the world of Remnant and then was reduced to nothing but a girl-obsessed hate sink two dimensional incel" and some anti-rwde people are hitting back with "you're just upset that the edgy bad-boy isn't getting redeemed, you just wanted Adam to be Zuko, but RWBY subverted your expectations by not redeeming him and instead giving Ilia the redemption arc, and giving Blake and Yang the sympathy."

And there's a lot to unpack, there. Including the fact that redemption arcs and sympathy aren't a zero-sum game in fiction and as someone who loves both redemption arcs and when characters get justified sympathy, it's frustrating when people act like there isn't enough redemption to go around as if it's a pie and Adam getting a piece of it means Ilia doesn't get any.

But more to the point, A. I at least have zero interest in Adam being a Zuko, because so much of Zuko's redemption arc hinged on Zuko confronting his and his people's role in oppression. Adam is oppressed. Zuko was scarred by an abusive father and banished from home, Adam was branded like cattle by a supremacist who he was working for as a child laborer. Although both are incredibly sympathetic, they're incredibly different. Whether or not the writers were trying to harken back to Zuko (which I believe they were,) they seemed to completely miss the differences between the two characters, and also deciding to 'subvert expectations' when the circumstances they themselves wrote were so different is a bad look at best. As if they couldn't have 'subverted expectations' with a different character like Cardin or Jacques or even Roman Torchwick, that wasn't a member of their in-universe oppressed minority group.

B. A member of an oppressed people group that's been hurt by the oppressors of the world and yet spends their time committing horrible cruel acts that force the heroes to stand against them is not some never before heard of thing. In fact, it's very common. A revolutionary supposedly fighting for equality that's actually hurting the people he's supposedly fighting for is a pretty regular every day thing. People have literally been criticizing how it's misused and usually racist propaganda (usually written by white people) since long before RWBY was even concepted. Adam isn't a proper subversion of anything, in my opinion, because you can't do the common thing and then say you subverted expectations by not doing the less common thing. Which in this case, the less common thing would actually be to make the oppressed person who had been branded and was shown fighting for the rights of his people to actually be a nuanced and complicated character who does deserve sympathy and could be redeemed.

C. It might just be me, but if you're going to 'subvert expectations' then the thing you write instead of the expectation had better be pretty freaking good. Because sometimes the expectation is there because it just works well. Like in a group of heroes, you expect them to develop a friendship. If people want to subvert expectations by instead having them hate each other, the story better be golden because the reason people tend to expect friendship is that it's usually much easier to connect to character dynamics when they actually like each other. If you're going to write a story where hope is a central theme, but you want to subvert expectations by making a sympathetic and cool character with a personal connection to the mains look like they're gonna get redeemed but then instead make them just the worst person imaginable, then you better do it super well and make him instead a great well-rounded nuanced and fun to hate villain. So not only do we have to pay attention to why the writers shouldn't have gone that route for Adam, we gotta look at the quality of what they did with it, and... Nope. It sucked. Adam was paper thin and horribly voice acted and honestly if he'd never attacked in V6 nothing would've really changed because it had no real consequences that couldn't have been better achieved in a different way, and introducing his branding scar in the same scene he got stabbed was purely for shock value, and nothing came of his character, and idk if Ruby ever even learned his name on screen or Weiss knew anything about him, and it was so badly done. If you're going to 'subvert expectations,' you gotta do it well, or people are always going to want the thing they expected in the beginning instead. Unfortunately, the RWBY writers didn't write Adam well at all. So I for one can't blame anyone for saying 'honestly, I wish they'd gone with the other thing.'

D. Back to 'sometimes when people say subverting expectations, they really mean ignored set up.' With Adam in particular, I do believe that he was always meant to be a bad guy who did bad cruel things from the very first trailer he appeared in, but that doesn't at all mean that set up wasn't ignored. From Blake talking about him as a mentor, to her crediting him with the Grimm masks, to the ideological differences, to Cinder literally having to threaten and coerce him into working with her on screen, the set up indicated that at the very least, this would be a complicated and nuanced 'villain with a point' and that point was going to matter and be addressed. The set up was that Cinder's coercion was going to be addressed and would matter. The set up was that Blake's complicated feelings about Adam and her desire to help her people and her later established care and compassion for Ilia (who may I remind people is at least just as bad as seasons 1-3 Adam in at least attempt if not execution,) would lead somewhere when it came to Adam. The set up was that seeing a child laborer literally branded on the face with the logo of WEISS'S COMPANY would lead to big discussions and some sort of recognition of just how bad the current system is and how bad the SDC itself as always been. And instead Weiss as far as we know never even heard about it and continued on being angry that she wasn't set to be CEO and calling her grandfather a hero and Blake was completely disinterested in attending a rally against Jacques Schnee and teased Weiss about her family owning half of Atlas. Like ???

E. Doing things out of nowhere is also not subverting expectations. In regards to Adam, this looks like randomly making him totally obsessed with Blake enough that he stalks her for weeks when he literally let her go repeatedly before that. Doing things out of nowhere is making Adam not care an ounce about his people in order to do whatever Salem says when we saw him reject Cinder outright and need to be coerced with threats to his people. Those aren't subverting expectations, that's just doing one thing and then retconning the character to do something out of character.

This post turned out to be mostly about Adam, but there's tons of examples of this, like people saying RWDE are mad that the writers 'subverted expectations' by making Ironwood turn evil when we were sitting there like 'the fact that he wasn't evil was subverting expectations in the first place! And they had to throw V3 out the window to get where they were in V8! And it was super badly done!' People just throw around 'subverting expectations' when it comes to RWBY because it sounds a lot better than 'flying by the seats of their pants doing whatever pops into their heads with no care or consideration towards set-up or emotional pay off' but that's it, that's what the RWBY writers seem to do. When I expect something to happen in RWBY, it's because it's the natural thing that makes sense to happen, and in their supposed effort to 'subvert expectations,' the writers instead made a show with no consequences where you can't expect the writers to make anything that happens matter and you can't trust what's in the show because the writers might say sike and retcon it. It's endlessly frustrating to be like 'hey was any of what was in the show going to matter' and then have people say 'you're just mad because RWBY subverted your expectations.' RWBY subverted my expectation that the show would be good, how about that?

You know, if the show actually was interested in subverting expectations, Jaune wouldn't be in the show nearly as much and he'd be more gender-non-conforming and be a support healer role instead of the man now with like twenty years of experience on the mains who always has his trauma get plenty of focus and gets away with screaming in Ruby's face that she's responsible for all bad things while he mourns the three different women that were shoved in the fridge for the sake of his character development. They could've started with making the white straight cis able-bodied not-faunus man actually not be a basic underdog-protagonist turned Michael-Scarn-esque tragic hero that Weiss lusts after, but whoops. Like what am I supposed to think, that they're super interested in subverting expectations for the sake of women when Jaune is right there guzzling up screen time? Nah babes.

(Before someone comes in here talking about Adam-obsessed fan boys, I do not even like Adam, canon Adam is not only gross but far too two-dimensional for me to even enjoy, and my own ideas for rewrites involve me boiling Adam down to a concept and building him up again as if he was a different character as much 'Adam' as Ruby is Red Riding Hood. Nobody accuse me of being an Adam-obsessed dudebro or I will lose it. Because that's another thing that a lot of anti-RWDE people seem to do, is decide that the only reason anyone would ever talk about problems with Adam is because they're an obsessed incel man. And meanwhile I'm over here as a bi-women who dislikes Adam partially because he reminds me of my controlling 'my happiness is your responsibility' ex-boyfriend who we - long story - thought might've stabbed someone with a sword once. So yeah, not an Adam fanboy lol.)

#rwde

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holybibly · 5 months

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Object of Desire | OT8 | Preview

Pairing: otx8 x reader

Genre: sugar daddy au, dark romance, smut, vampire au,

Word Count: ....

Summary: Caught in a web of deceit and forbidden pleasures, Nabi quickly learns that some obsessions can be deadly and love can bite.

WARNING: only!18+ Blood drinking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, voice kink, daddy kink, master/pet game, pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, seduction, BDSM, polyamory, mirror sex, marking, voyeurism, power play, and more.

Disclaimer: I do not support themes of violence, obsession, possessiveness, or emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: Another vampire ot8 that no one asked for. Someday I will learn to stop being seduced by random ideas.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Part 1. Do you want to make a deal with the Devil?

Now going out of town in the middle of the night with Yeonjun seemed like a bad idea.

A very bad one, I thought.

God, what was I thinking when I agreed to do this? Yesterday, this whole venture seemed like a great way to solve my problems, but now the prospect was not so rosy.

Sometimes I feel like a complete idiot, and this is one of those times.

Outside the window the dark landscape was sweeping by at high speed; the bare trees were shrouded in an ominous gloom, and only the dim light of the tall street lamps over the road was the only source of illumination to guide us in the darkness.

It seemed that the darkness around us did not stop Yeonjun from driving. His posture was relaxed and his hand was sure as he turned the wheel in the right direction, the diamond bracelet on his thin wrist sparkling with starlight. One of the many family jewels that Yeonjun treated with special affection.

In contrast to him, I couldn't relax and kept fidgeting on the leather seat made of black Iberian leather, no less.

Every part of my body was begging me to stop and come home before it was too late. Not so, I had imagined that we were going to an elite club. I knew that we would be there late at night, but the fact that the club was way out of town came as an unpleasant surprise.

At the moment it's an hour's drive from Seoul and more than an hour and a half to the destination on the GPS.

The whole thing was strange and made me dizzy, or was it the thick smell of Yeonjun's perfume? It was a dense, smoky scent with a hint of vanilla. Powerful enough to draw the eyes of everyone around to its source, and sexy enough to make you want to kiss the naked skin of the wearer of this tantalising scent.

It would be several days before I was able to wash off the remnants of his perfume after our meeting, so much of it had eaten its way into my skin.

I glanced at Yeonjun; a stray yellowish-white light from the lantern momentarily illuminated his face, and a shadow of long velvet eyelashes fell on his pale cheeks. His black raven hair was streaked with flashes of platinum and gold. He looked otherworldly - I would even say demonic.

I felt a palpable shiver run through my body, as if someone had just dipped my heart into a bucket of icy water.

"Jun." My voice was terribly uncertain. "I don't think I can do this." I said as my fingers pulled down the hem of a short dress. The expensive material looked luxurious in a perfect shade of white and was decorated with a sprinkling of crystals. Yeonjun insisted that I wear it tonight and said that I would be grateful for it as soon as we got to the club. I don't think I'd ever choose something like that for myself, and not just because of its crazy cost; Jun's fashion preferences were so different from mine. He was a fan of overt sexuality and bold lines; I, on the other hand, preferred neutrals and comfort. "I have changed my mind; this proposal does not suit me at all. Maybe we can go back..."

Yeonjun smiled softly as he turned to me, but in the darkness of the drawing room the smile was more ominous than reassuring, his lips the most breathtaking shade of red I had ever seen.

Warning bells began to ring in my head. There are times when you can sense danger even before you are faced with it.

"Nabi, my dear, there is nothing for you to be worried about. We have already discussed this. Remember?" His hand was cold as he laid it on my knee. "I will take care of everything. You're my guest tonight, which means you're under my protection." The long fingers shrank a little, a kind of confirmation of his words. His fingernails were painted glossy black, and his fingers were adorned with several silver rings.

I would like to believe that nothing is going to happen to me, but my insides are tied up in a tight knot of fear.

Miss Kim Seoyun's words echoed in my head like thunder: "Humble yourself and surrender to destiny; you are where you are supposed to be.

When did I start believing all this? This is no time to panic, Nabi.

Everything will be fine.

To be honest, Yeonjun was never my first choice when I needed help, and I always tried to keep a certain distance from him for a number of reasons. There was something so predatory about him, almost animalistic, that lit up the red lights of danger, but I was desperate; student loans, rent, insurance and food were starting to pile up. I was in desperate need of money, and preferably a lot of it, fast.

The threat of being left out on the streets and being thrown out of university has never been as real as it is now.

The only thing that gave me the slightest bit of confidence was Jimin's assurance that I could trust Yeonjun completely and how carefree he was.

Damn, Jun looked like we were going on a spontaneous romantic trip instead of a closed elite club outside the city in the middle of the night.

I asked myself again, "Why did I agree to this?" Oh yes, money. A lot of money.

A few days ago, Yeonjun contacted me and offered to help me with my money problem. Of course, Park Jimin couldn't keep his big mouth shut and told him about my problems. He told me that one of his friends at the private club had a good deal for me. I could make a lot of money out of it.

The income was enough to pay off all my debts and the number of zeros on offer was enough to turn my head.

It was an unequivocal and desperate "YES" and at that moment I did not think at all about the consequences or the characteristics of this proposal.

Jun also promised me a lot of fun but after I signed the NDA and read the multi-page contract with its veiled meaning and rather vague wording of some specific points, doubts blossomed in my chest, and I began to understand what kind of fun was being discussed.

Looks like I made a deal with the Devil.

The dress was delivered on the eve of our trip, a few hours before Yeonjun's chic Ferrari pulled up outside my dorm room. The all-white gown, richly embroidered with blue topaz and opal, was incredible. The plunging neckline of the corsage barely covered the lace bralet of the same colour as the dress.

I have never seen my breasts look so full and so soft. I would even call it seductive. Everything I moved had to be clean and graceful; if I moved too sharply, the soft pink halos of my nipples would start to show. This was beyond the limits of my modesty. At one point, I could even feel Yeonjun's searing gaze resting on my cleavage. It was a carnal look with a shadow of hidden lust in the depths of the dark, shining pupils. It was the first time in the several years of our dubiously friendly communication that he had shown such a desire for me.

The dress and underwear came with four-inch heels. Of course, if my life had been in danger and I had tried to escape, there would have been no chance of success. Incidentally, I'm a terrible runner; I bet I couldn't have run more than ten meters before I collapsed with breathlessness. I should have gone to the gym when Jimin offered it to me.

Oh my God, Nabi, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

Jun's silky voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"You have such a tense look on your face, my darling." He purred. "We'll be there soon, Nabi. Try to relax; you're going to love "Crescent", I'm sure."

Why did it have such a sinister ring to it? "Crescent" - the name was sweet enough, I would say poetic, but the way Yeonjun rolled the word over his tongue as if he could feel its taste - thick and viscous - made the name something forbidden and sinful. Well, the idea of the cult was not so absurd to me. And that stupid prophecy never left my mind.

"You're where you should be..."

In the reflection of the small mirror in the car, I met my gaze. My pupils were dilated like those of a hunted prey. And though I tried to calm down, I could feel the cold, predatory touch of Youngjoon's hand all too well. Baby, it looks like you're going to get caught.

I ask myself again. Why did I find myself in this situation?

Dressed in the most luxurious designer clothes, like a real doll. Ready to become an exclusive blood donor for a very wealthy private community whose clients needed this kind of service, accompanied by one of Seoul's wealthiest heirs.

Now I can say: "Hey, Nabi, you really screwed up."

To be continued…

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melonbear51 · 5 months

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VTM Character Concepts I am Compelled to Share: Malkavian Edition

HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Sorry I kinda disappeared off the face of the earth (work has been wild because tis the season I guess), but a bouquet of Mlakavian ideas have bloomed from my brain and I am eager to share them with you all. As always, feel free to use any of these ideas in your campaigns, art, etc. and please do message me about what your characters are up to! Also, PLEASE be mindful that VTM is a dark game so I'd advise against engaging with some of the concepts if you are aren't in a good headspace. VTM is a game, but your mental health isn't. Please take care of yourselves ��️ With that said, let's get into some concepts for a clan I hold very near and dear to my heart! 1. A Malkavian with severe agoraphobia, but not for the reasons you might think. You see, they are keeping themselves isolated and sticking to one place because every time they go outside, it seems like disaster strikes. Others may say its a coincidence, but this Malkavian is convinced they are a walking herald of disaster, and wants to protect those they love. 2. A Malkavian computer scientist and programmer who scoffs at those who believe in a higher power. Why? Because they are building a God via AI who will shepherd humanity and kindred into a new era . 3. A Malkavian who wakes up every night with no memory of the previous one. To combat this, they obsessively journal, take notes and photographs, and record audio diaries. So far the rest of the coterie hasn't caught on yet, but with every night things become more difficult. 4. A Malkavian who developed an incredibly intense fear of silence after encountering a complete absence of sound during their embrace. To avoid it, they always have headphones to play music on their person, and tend to do things like drum their fingers against tables to produce noise. Though this helps, it can be irritating to other kindred, and a big hindrance during espionage and infiltration missions. 5. A Malkavian who, desperate to cure their derangement, has begun hunting down and diablerizing Salubri, believing the clan of healers’s blood is the solution to all their problems.

6. A Malkavian who is nonverbal due to a fear that some of their Dominate abilities, which have been erratic and uncontrollable in the past, act up. In life they felt helpless over the fact that many things were out of their control and wished they could have things their way, but now they regret their wish with all their heart.

7. A photographer Malkavian who strongly believes in the idea that when you take someone’s picture, you capture a piece of their soul. Fascinated by the fact that the Lasombra don’t show up on cameras correctly, they are obsessed with the idea of getting a proper snapshot of one and analyzing it.

Hope you all enjoy!

#vampire the masquerade #ttrpgs #world of darkness #vtm #character concept #vtm v5 #ny by night #vampire the masquerade v20 #vampire chronicles #vampires #fang formulas #malkavian #interesting npcs #la by night

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

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Hcs for how a rivalry (romantic) would happen between Connor and his superior model RK-900? Thank you!

Sure! This takes place in an AU where Connor deviates upon knowing he's being replaced and is on the run from Cyberlife.

I'd like feedback as I had so many ideas for this, I want to know how I did! Hope you like it :) This could totally be a longer fic due to the endings ans choices. I'm so happy with this.

Ngl, new fav fic of mine. This is long. I need to write more D:BH.

Yandere! Connor (RK800) vs RK900

Pairing: Rivalry - Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Guns, Murder, Forced kissing, Possessive behavior, Moral conflict, Rivalry, Deviancy, Android/Human, Overprotective behavior, Blood mention, Stalking, Invasion of privacy, Trauma.

You knew Connor first

The android was cold at times but you knew he was just doing what his programming told him.

You worked at the police station, while Connor was assigned to Hank, the android often looked towards you.

It was against his programming to ask about you, yet you still saw him walk over to you.

You weren't opposed to androids unlike your colleagues, yet you didn't want to encourage Connor to be off task.

"Hello, Officer (Y/N)."

"Hey, Connor. Need something?"

"No. I was just checking in. Are you doing fine with organizing crime files?"

"Yes... but you should really go back to Hank, Connor."

"Do you not like me standing here?"

"I just don't want to distract you, Connor."

"I am not on duty as of now. Do I make you uncomfortable?"

This Connor is a combination of sticking with his coding and being a deviant.

He's deviant enough to still have some sort of obsession towards you, but cold enough to go against other deviants.

You have no idea how you affect the android.

You bring out the flaws within him.

The flaws that push him to looking for info about you.

When you aren't around, Connor snoops.

He looks through your computer for the most part.

It would be strange if he asked others about personal info.

He also isn't deviant enough to stalk.

Then, once Connor completes his missions, you meet RK900.

It surprises you when you meet the newer model, he looks exactly like Connor but with different clothing.

This leaves you dreading what happened to Connor....

"What happened to Connor?"

"RK800? He is being hunted by Cyberlife. In short, he is on the run."

"On the run...?"

"Yes. I have been assigned to Lt. Hank Anderson... Cyberlife told me you are also on the case. The uprising is finished. We just need to find RK800 now."

Something about the way RK900 talks puts you on edge.

Connor ran away? So he was a deviant....

It saddened you to know he probably ran due to the fear of being replaced....

No one likes to be replaced, human or android.

This is how RK900 gets attached to you.

He is aware you were close with the deviant, thinking you'll be the key to finding him.

He is a better model of RK800, meant to iron out the imperfections of his predecessor.

Although, turns out they missed one or two.

While not as open about it as Connor, he still feels an attachment towards you.

Through the hunt of Connor, RK900 appears to care more and more about you.

He also keeps trying to convince you Connor's dangerous.

"If you see the deviant, contact me."

"You mean Connor-"

"The name is not needed. Promise you'll call for back up."

"Fine... I promise."

You have no idea that when you're with RK900, Connor is keeping an eye on you.

Finally full deviant, Connor stalks you and his replacement.

It hurts him to know you were stuck alongside someone who looks like him... but isn't him

Connor is now without his LED, body covered in a large hood and baggy pants.

He needed a disguise that would hide his appearance... this is what he could come up with.

He doesn't look like the Connor you used to know.

He looks a bit too human.

He never wanted to be on the run, yet he never wanted to be replaced either.

In fact... he wished he could have you on the run with him.

It would be unsafe, but he really misses you.

Watching you with that RK900 upsets him, too.

Perhaps during the investigation, when RK900 finally leaves you be, Connor pulls you into an alleyway.

You go to scream... but those eyes are familiar.

"Don't say anything. I promise I won't hurt you."

"Connor? Is that really you?"

"I missed you, (Y/N)... Truthfully, I think of you a lot."

"That's... flattering- What is your plan? Are you going to run until your thirium pump stalls?"

"I want to get out of the city... you need to come with."

"... Connor, no, I-"

"Please, (Y/N). I promise we'll live a good life. Just help me-"

"...."

You're left with two choices.

Go with Connor and help him out of the city or stick with RK900 to turn Connor in.

>>> Leave with Connor.

"Fine, I'll help you out."

If you agree to Connor's offer, he's ecstatic.

Unable to control his fabricated form of love, he leans down and kisses you.

His lips are cold, a faux sense of desperation in his movements.

He then pulls away, readjusting the hood.

"I knew you'd say yes."

You then disappear with Connor, alerting RK900.

You were done investigating your area, right?

Why weren't you back?

The chase for Connor intensifies, now realizing you're gone too.

You're now suspected of helping the deviant, your arrest now being thought of.

Connor's grip on you is intense.

He's extremely protective of you and you help him try to leave Detroit.

When escape is within your grasp, RK900 stops you both.

"Connor, look out!"

A gunshot is heard, thirium spilling out from Connor's hood.

"RK800. Release your hostage!"

RK900 has a gun pointed at Connor, meanwhile Connor has you behind him.

"(Y/N) is no hostage.... we're happy!"

Connor pulls a gun from his pocket, pointing it at RK900.

"Back up is on its way, RK800."

You look fearfully between the two.

This could end one of two ways....

>>> RK900 shoots first

"No... leave us alone- I refuse to comply."

"You leave me no choice, RK800. You'd be disassembled anyways."

With quick speed, RK900 shoots Connor between the eyes.

You scream as the deviant hits the ground, RK900 pocketing his gun.

"Now listen, (Y/N). Your arrest is being considered. However, if you come with me with the explanation you're a hostage... you'll be fine. If not... a cell is waiting for you."

You stare warily towards Connor, deactivated on the ground.

Dead upon the head wound.

"... If you say so...."

RK900 then takes you into his hold, walking you back to the station.

"You know..."

RK900 starts, gray eyes looking towards you.

"If you wanted attention from him, I could give you just that."

Your eyes widen, staring up at the android.

It clicks in your head once you get to the station...

He's a deviant too.

>>> Connor shoots first

Before giving RK900 a chance to speak, Connor shoots.

A bullet hits his neck, then another in his head.

In retaliation, RK900 shoots but it misses you both.

Damaged on the ground, RK900 lays motionless.

"Okay, Connor, let's run-"

*Bang bang bang*

Connor shoots three more unneeded rounds into RK900 before tugging you along and pocketing his gun.

"Come on."

His tone is cold once again, pushing you two on a bus heading out of town.

Connor sits you by a window seat and him next to you.

You're caged in, Connor's brown gaze fixated on you.

"(Y/N)."

You look to him, the situation setting in.

"... Can we kiss again?"

"Connor... why?"

"I like to think... I'm yours. So, please, show me I am."

"... if you really want it"

It'll be a long bus ride... you aren't even sure if this is the right decision in the end.

>>> Refuse Connor's offer.

"No, Connor."

He looks to process the information before pressing you closer against the wall.

"I NEED you, (Y/N)!"

Cold lips force themselves against yours, silencing your screams for help.

That is until a gunshot is heard, thirium pooling out of Connor.

"Release Officer (Y/N), deviant."

RK900 points a gun towards Connor, Connor pulls away, pulling a gun of his own.

"No..."

This could end one of three ways.

>>> RK900 shoots Connor

"Very well then, RK800."

*bang*

Connor lets you go, crashing into the alleyway.

You flinch at the loud sound, RK900 putting away his weapon before coaxing you close to him.

He notices you shaking, eyes narrowing at the damaged deviant.

"It'll be okay, (Y/N)... I've got you. I'll protect you."

Normally, he'd ignore your shaking hug.

Although...he felt different.

The obvious culprit would be deviancy.

Which would mean memory wiping... or worse.

RK900 silences such thoughts and decides to hide them from you, for now.

You may not be emotionally stable enough to handle it, anyway.

RK900 presses you to his chest, chin on your head.

He'll comfort you... then take you back.

After removing Connor... RK900 felt... relief.

Was it because you're no longer in danger...?

Or was it because you're finally all his?

>>> Connor shoots RK900

"I'd never give (Y/N) up."

*bang bang bang*

RK900 is caught off guard, falling to the ground.

Connor then holds you crushingly close to his body, making a run for it.

Even though you struggle, he ignores it, throwing you over his shoulder.

You'll understand he cares for you in time...

For now, he needs to focus on getting you both out of town.

"I know you don't understand, (Y/N)... but I'm yours, and I hope you'll be mine.

In this case, while it ends similarly to the "Accept Connor" choice...

You really are a hostage this time.

>>> Connor shoots you

"If I'm leaving... then (Y/N) is too."

"Connor, what!?"

The barrel is pressed against your head, the cold metal freezing your skin.

"(Y/N)!"

*bang bang*

Gunshots sync together, leaving only one android active.

You lay on the ground, gunshot to the head taking you out.

Connor lays next to you, shot to the head damaging his processors.

His embrace is still tight around you.

RK900's LED flickers yellow, scanning what has occured.

It then went red at the realization of your death.

RK900 was speechless.

He called your name in concern... admitting deviancy.

He also felt... angry, remorseful at your death....

He was a deviant too... he could sense it.

But what was the point?

He didn't need to be deviant for anyone now.

"What happened, RK900?"

Hank asks, RK900 turning around.

"I was unable to recover Officer (Y/N). Our deviant is disabled, however."

"Dear god...."

RK900 looks back at you, LED continuing to flicker.

In his mind, his mission failed.

#yandere dbh #yandere detroit become human #yandere rk800 #yandere connor #yandere rk900

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cymk8 · 4 months

Note

I can't stop looking at your Shadowlach art. Any of it. All of it.

- One cos of your artistry: beautiful and soft and the negative space?? Hello??

- Two cos HELLO?? you draw them so soft and sweet and it is just so peaceful to look at your art. (The kitties in the hair brushing one are *so* cute, and non-ship friends are also enamoured with them :3)

Tell us more about your headcanons, please!

Some prompts if needed: How did things progress from platonic? Was it romantic from early on or primarily physical attraction? Were they on similar pages throughout their relationship or did one fall harder?

General invitation to word dump: what thoughts have you most crazed? Why don't you let them out ;)

(thank u so much...for your compliment and also the fact you sent this ask in the first place has made my day)

God I have so fucking many thoughts I'm going little insane about it and I'm literally so happy you asked because. I have been w a i t i n g HAHA

Your prompts:

We have all heard That Line™; I'd imagine that having both been so pent up, they would immediately jump each other's bones given the opportunity — Shadowheart is absolutely unsubtle and Karlach is Karlach

I actually think it would be one sided for a while!! But not in the piney way. I think Shadowheart attempts to rizz the shit out of Karlach only to fail because Karlach's situation with her engine essentially made her exceptionally good at Resisting Temptation (I find it absolutely hilarious that most of Karlach's in-game responses are so purposefully obtuse when it comes to her)

That in particular pisses Shadowheart off since she would be so used to being able to finesse her way through things like this (because of her background as a professional 'spy' — because otherwise...she's an absolute dork); it makes her try extra hard and eventually come to the conclusion that her attraction is greater when in fact Karlach has had more experience living like a Nun™ than she does

(cont.)

As for the development...I think they would be on similar levels of attraction, but tackle it differently — Karlach would immediately embrace the feeling and Shadowheart will try her fucking hardest to rationalize it away/deny it (queen of repression)

They would probably be fast friends (Shadowheart rizzing Karlach), then actual friends (because Karlach is so earnest Shadowheart feels like she can be earnest too), physically involved, then romantically involved — it only outwardly seems fast, but they definitely have things to work through before they can actually really be honest and feel that they can rely on each other completely

Random headcanon/general thoughts that have going FERAL IN THE CLUB:

I think they work really well together — they balance each other out in the sense that they have very different ways of handling their own stresses and trauma; they have a lot of opportunities to grow even just by being around one another (for example, Shadowheart is so Repressed™ even other characters feel the same way — and Karlach is the opposite); restraint and freedom go hand in hand 😌

They both have a love for adorable things...once the all of the shit with Karlach's heart gets sorted and they FINALLY get to live that cottagecore life, I think their farm would have so many more animals. Like. So many...Karlach would honestly just be so excited to be able to care for things again — and Shadowheart would be excited because she's finally allowed to be just as loud about showing that she DOES care

The idea that Shadowheart's hair could be a signifier for how closed off she is — so throughout the acts, she slowly lets it down/get messier figuratively and literally in front of everyone...AND KARLACH gets permission to touch and braid it as a sign of true trust and vulnerability; it becomes something of a ritual (Karlach is obsessed simply for the fact that she isn't seen as dangerous and is trusted to be able to be gentle about things) (thanks @kanobies for giving me that sweet, sweet psychic damage)

To add to that: they like physically pampering each other — Karlach finally internalizing that she can be 'pretty' and deserving of gentle care and Shadowheart internalizing that she is allowed to want/ask for things that aren't strictly necessary or used towards a greater cause (I don't think she's ever had a strong sense of bodily autonomy in the sense that she was gaslit into thinking every aspect of her life was for Lady Shar)

I'M OBSESSED WITH THE FACT THAT THEY RADIATE DOG ENERGY IN VASTLY DIFFERENT WAYS: thank you Isobel for immediately clocking Shadowheart on sight by calling her a feisty little terrier and for Karlach being literally Clifford the Big Red Dog and

The difference in lifespans...FUCK. KARLACH WOULD TRY SO HARD TO MAKE THEIR TIME TOGETHER WORTH IT/MEMORABLE since she knows her life is comparatively short; Shadowheart would never take it for granted; they make each other keepsakes...🫠🥹🥹

And I still have so much more but I gotta seem like I'm at least somewhat classy (pls...if anyone wants to talk about any of them or both of them I am so mcfucking ready)

#i am not in fact classy #im....SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM #bg3 #shadowheart #karlach #shadowlach

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ryverbind · 2 months

Text

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

_______________

dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner.

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode.

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time.

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises.

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark.

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world.

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right?

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me.

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life."

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does.

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed.

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance.

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans.

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force.

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are.

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin.

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips.

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile.

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him.

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way.

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically.

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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telleroftime · 1 year

Note

How do you think it would go if Bowser were to finally introduce his partner to his kingdom?

So like obviously the guards at the castle already know what's happening because gossip spreads like sickness. But maybe Bowser finally decides to make it known to his people that this special person is his beloved.

Some of the elder members of the society might not like a human being up there with him. Some might be super happy that Bowser found someone. Others are unsure of how much they can trust this person. It's such a wide range of reactions.

I can only imagine how upset Bowser would get if his people didn't like his partner.

To be fair, I'd think it'd go exactly as you say. It would be a common fact that Bowser was in love with Peach to the point of obsession, so the idea of a human ruling over the Koopa Kingdom alongside Bowser wouldn't be a completely new idea, but at least the citizens knew of Peach. Bowser was vocal. However if this would be the first time they are presented to his people it would be a complete surprise. A too big of a surprise.

There would be those that have no issue with a human ruling alongside the king. Afterall, as long as Bowser is happy the kingdom will thrive.

There would be people that wouldn't be able to stand a human. A weak, fleshy thing will be in charge of them? What gives? How could a human ever relate to what it's like being a koopa? Or a goomba? Or anything else? They'd probably feel like it's a recipe for disaster.

They'd question their knowledge of the kingdom's geography. They'd challenge their knowledge of the kingdom's history. If Bowser's beloved was found by themselves in the streets of cities - not like they would since I doubt Bowser would let them wander without at least a few guards - they would probably hear quite a few sly and mean remarks. Even if they were yet to gain the title of consort.

Maybe they'd be called inadequate, maybe the citizens will say that their king deserves better.

Either way, though Bowser would be proud to present his lover, the kingdom would need time to adjust to the news. And, his partner would need to prove themself to his people before they are accepted. Which would no doubt infuriate Bowser because he knows best what's good for his kingdom, and evidently he has decided that this specific human is good.

His partner would probably have to do a fair bit of charity work to show Bowser's people that they mean no harm and that they will support the king to the best of their ability. Maybe that would entail helping in construction of new buildings in the far edges of the kingdom, or sponsoring farmers all over the kingdom. It's not like it would be forced work either, since realistically they'd want to help Bowser with his job as ruler as best as they can.

And Bowser would be happy for it.

In the end, the people would get used to them, because like I said before - if the king is happy, the kingdom will thrive.

(Sorry if this is a bit all over the place. I might add more to this later because I love the idea of Bowser's partner helping the citizens first-hand because they refuse to be looked down upon and they won't to prove themselves to not only the people, but also to Bowser).

#toonce responses #bowser headcanons #bowser x reader #redaskeded

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aqours · 6 months

Text

anyways if i'm going this deep in lemme share this teen mom Ashley fic idea i had i'd love feedback on the idea

this is completely unrelated to my other idea regarding this this is an entirely different can of worms i'm putting this under a readmore just bc it's a bit long and also filled with dead doves so only open and eat it at your own discretion

so basically the idea goes like this- when they were teenagers (her 14 and him 16) Andrew and Ashley got into some kind of big fight (still working on it) most likely due to him having a girlfriend in hs at the time. during this period, in an effort to make a point and piss him off, Ashley gets a boyfriend of her own (who just so happens to have messy black hair and green eyes wow what a coincidence) who was in a class with Andrew. some incident happens where Ashley "accidentally" leaves her phone with explicit texts on view (but also tis like the 90s so maybe i'll redo that) and Andrew talked with his classmate and then uh there was another second missing person, and after an intense argument Ashley and Andrew "slept in the same bed" and anyways a month later Ashley announces she's pregnant casually at the dinner table putting the pregnancy test she put right on it.

"Huh. Not the reaction I was hoping for."

"Forgive me for not being particularly fucking thrilled at the idea of being a grandmother at 32, Ashley."

"You know, if my kid has a kid at 15 and their kid ALSO has a kid at 15 you could be a great-great-grandma at only 75."

"Please shut the fuck up, Ashley."

and Andrew is in complete denial it is. it's been 6 years and every single person except Julia refuses to believe it isn't. at one point when Alexis "Alex" Graves is a baby she makes a comment she has her father's (green) eyes with a wink and grin at Andrew. during the Burial Route when Mrs. Graves is trying to plead with Andrew she finally says "... If you won't do it for yourself, do it for your ------------------" and it's like his brain physically blocks out any insinuation with he's the father with white noise. so he's been living as the kid's uncle officially and has no idea how to act around this kid most of the time.

Ashley is not a good mom by any means and has had CPS called on her more than once but incompetence won't remove the child entirely and she does like. actually love this kid but her obsession with Andrew is clearly more important to her, the fact this kid keeps him tethered to her even if he won't admit, and also because she spoils the kid however she can to try to prove she's a better mother just because her daughter is happier than she was, when learning Alex hit another kid to get their candy she was outright like fuck YEAH if you want something take it!!! girlboss gatekeep gaslight to this four year old and Andrew at least tried to teach the kid right from wrong in response. during her first birthday Mrs. Graves asked Ashley if she was gonna do anything and Ashley didn't see a point the kid is 1 they won't remember the birthday there's nothing they'd want and she doesn't seem to process the point of a birthday for a baby isn't about toys and fun but to celebrate their life. when Ashley suggests they can get by on mugging people Alex says she can pose as a homeless sad kid and for the first time in a while at her Ashley lights up and says THAT'S why you're mama's favorite <3333

babies don't make everything better the co-dependent toxic satanic demonic summoning cannibal incest game's plot now also includes a 6 year old that has also eaten people now with two of the most awful parents imaginable around her and if anything Ashley might get colder once her mom is dead because now there's no way

thoughts? i really want to write this but i'd love feedback

#the coffin of andy and leyley #andy and leyley #andrew graves #ashley graves #gravecest #coffincest #ashley x andrew #i have. no idea how to tag this otherwise lmao #dead dove do not eat #there #starposts #long post

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year

Note

Hello!♡

First of all~ I love how you write!💕 You're absolutely talented.✨️ I'm also so in love with your yandere!Loki~ Could you maybe see yourself writing a sequel to this or any other yandere headcanons about Loki in general?

Have a lovely day!♡

OKAY, SO I DEF WANT TO WRITE A SEQUEL I JUST HAVEN'T HAD AN IDEA BUT I'D BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO WRITE ABOUT MY YANDERE LOKI! Just to let you know; I'm not gonna go in too heavy with the punishment stuff just bc I'm not good at writing that yet, lol.

Yandere! Loki Headcanons:

- At first, he's basically like regular Loki except for the fact he isn't afraid to let you know that he's highkey obsessed with you.

- In general, he is a bipolar Yandere.

- He loves you so tenderly and gets filled with these new sickly sweet thoughts of romance that didn't interest him before but now that YOU are in the picture, it makes his heart leap.

- Sometimes he hates you and gives you the cold shoulder, avoiding you and getting frustrated at the mere mention of your name because HOW DARE YOU MAKE HIM FEEL SO WEAK AND VULNERABLE!? THAT'S NOT FAIR. AND YOU HAVE THE A U D A C I T Y TO NOT BE AS OBSESSED WITH HIM AS HE IS WITH YOU? outrageous!

- Other times he's a mix of the two, where he just gives you the cold shoulder and expects you to approach him and when you leave him alone then he gets more annoyed because THAT'S NOT WHAT HE WANTED YOU TO DO.

- Then there are times where he's completely stoic faced and just...watches you. Even when you can't see him, you can feel his eyes burning into him. When you aren't around, he's still quiet and looks distant yet focused on something, nothing can catch his attention for too long and even Thor and Odin are off put by his behavior because, well, he's never like this.

- He'll only react to your name or voice, but if he sees you aren't there or you're talking to someone who isn't him then he gets bitter and goes into his more sour moods. If you are there or you are talking to him directly, then he'll be over the moon and float over to you right away!

- Touchy guy, honestly. It doesn't matter whether you're a God or Human, he doesn't see you as either, he only sees you as his. Something that belongs to him. So he won't, like, full on grope you but he will pull you into hugs, put his arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder, or playing with your hair no matter what length it is and other things like that.

- Sometimes he might touch you more intimately, such as putting a hand on your thigh, cupping your face in his hands, and overall just testing to see how far you'll allow him to go before you get upset and move away from him. Again, he mostly just thinks its funny to make you a little uncomfortable at times.

- You honestly don't know if its lust, love, or hatred that he feels for you and it genuinely gives you a headache just thinking about it.

- Easily possessive and jealous as a Yandere as well. For example, if you were ranting to him about Poseidon being a dick then he'll frown and grab your face and make you look at him and say: "You're talking about him too much, I don't like it." before letting you go, so you just awkwardly change the subject to something else that might keep his interest or maybe make him the topic and he's back to being his jovial and playful self.

- With that being said, if you have someone else you're romantically interested in, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF AS BEST AS YOU CAN. SHOVE THOSE FEELINGS DEEP INSIDE YOU AND LET THEM DIE. Because once Loki finds out, he's outraged.

- If they're human, he will kill them, Ragnarok be damned. If they're a God and they're more stronger than him, he knows he won't be able to kill them but he'll pester them and use his shape-shifting abilities to change into you and make sure they never want to be near you again. He doesn't feel bad when you cry, after all, YOU'RE the one who should apologize for hurting HIM.

- Loki himself also doesn't realize how deep his feelings for you go, he can't process them and it confuses him and frustrates him and excites him all the same.

- He originally thought you were just a passing obsession, that someday he'd get bored of you just like everything else and then leave you alone. But that day never came and it looks like it won't ever happen each day he wakes up and thinks of you as his very first thought.

- Your love, your hatred, your sadness, your happiness. He's a greedy God who wants all of it, all of you. Truly, if you have him obsessed with you, then you just have the worst luck in the universe.

#THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING HIM #HE LITERALLY LIVES RENT FREE IN MY HEAD SO I'M HAPPY I GOT TO LIKE #SPEW MY BRAINROT FOR HIM.#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #ror x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv x reader #ror loki #ror loki x reader #snv loki #yandere loki ror #yandere loki snv #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere #HE GIVES ME SO MUCH SEROTONIN.#HE'S JUST A LIL FUCKED UP GUY YK???

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sugar-grigri · 7 months

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Hi there! Hope you are having a nice day! I really love your csm analyses and meta! It's specially great because I don't understand literary symbolism at all, I'm learning a lot. I was wondering if you had any thoughts on my boy Yoshida. What do you think is his role? Is he only an obstacle for the romantic relationship between Denji and Asa? In a world where every detail has a deeper meaning, why an octopus? Hope you have a great day!

The octopus trap

I think that if I asked every Chainsaw Man reader about Yoshida, most of the time I'd be told either "I have no idea what he's going to do" or, more precisely, "I keep expecting him to do something, but he doesn't end up doing anything".

You mustn't let your hair stand on end when you read remarks like that. Yoshida is my favorite character of Part 2, yet if I were to describe him succinctly it would be in exactly those terms.

When I say not to be annoyed by these remarks, it's because they're not the result of a lack of writing, a lack of development or even a depreciation of the character, these descriptions only underline the originality of Yoshida's writing.

Yes, it's surely worth clarifying what I mean by all this...

Let's take a look at things chronologically. Yoshida's first appearance comes just after Asa, who has just discovered she's possessed by the war demon, is unable to set foot inside her school, a victim of anxiety, school phobia and, above all, Bucky's death.

Yoshida suddenly appears during this scene. He is also quickly associated with Asa, as the demon-hunting club puts him in Yuko's and the protagonist's group. We all said to ourselves: great, something's going to happen between these two! She's dying of shame, so Fujimoto is bound to use this to create more interaction between them.

When Asa comes across her bullies, who have attacked her locker and shoes, only Yuko comes to comfort her, and Yoshida simply fades into the background. It's strange, because it was as if he had brutally hidden himself from the progress of the scenario and the reaction he might have had to this kind of situation. Keep this in mind.

Then Yoshida reappears in chapter 103, as if Fujimoto were accidentally placing an ink blot in the background, Yoshida simply blending into the background until he hits his target. For the reader, this creates a certain "ah yes, where the hell has he been?" situation, and the element of surprise is intensified by the fact that this is Denji's first appearance as a human in Part 2. This time, Yoshida doesn't disappear into the background, as if evaporated, he appears when no one was expecting him.

Put that in the back of your mind too.

Then, when he tries to put Denji's goal of a girlfriend into action, he introduces him to Asa Mitaka, whom we suspect, subconsciously or consciously, to be Chainsaw Man's love interest. So we're all thinking (myself included at this point), he's surely going to be the magnet between the two! Which turns out to be completely untrue, as Yoshida brutally declares that Asa has no business getting close to Denji.

This point not only shows that Yoshida's narrative function is hard to pin down, it also proves something else: he's not omniscient. He's not, as I've read, this absolutely perfect string-puller, since it's clear that he doesn't grasp until later that Asa may not simply be a young girl obsessed with finding a boyfriend, but a possessed one who might disturb the target he's watching: Chainsaw Man.

The aquarium was Yoshida's observation ground. Yoshida has no desire to be active, as evidenced by the telephone scene where, after Asa has been humiliated by his failure to call anyone, he shows Denji his phone, arguing that he can't get a signal anyway. Now I'll get to that line : "Do you think CSM would eat it for us ? The Death devil"

Whether it was making you believe that Yoshida is a genius string-puller, this line made you believe that the boy had something to do with the demon of death. Fujimoto wouldn't ruin so many mysteries surrounding one of the most anticipated demons so unskillfully. That's why it's necessary to interpret it differently. A line belongs to a whole, and this scene between Yoshida and Denji is not a scene that escapes its whole, on the contrary, it has consequences.

It serves to show two things: firstly, Yoshida is aware of Chainsaw Man's ability to erase other demons, which was surely reported by Kishibe who learned of it in chapter 84, proving firstly that the public hunters are now aware of this ability. Something that had never been said before. Then we come to the most interesting part. Yoshida makes it clear in this scene that they've been locked up for three days, and the cases illustrate how each of the students is dealing with their own mortality, with Haruka crying, Nobana flips out, another prefers to be physically active to keep himself busy, while Yoshida prepares to die. As for Denji, he's been through worse, and is cooler than the others.

Then Yoshida pointed out, "Do you think Chainsaw Man would eat the demon of death?" This triggers Denji's act of kindness, as he realizes that he can also "suppress", "devour" fears in his human form, by taking action. Denji has noticed that Asa is looking to be active; she's the one who offered her a date, so she's the one who has priority to receive comfort, so Denji comes to devour the fear that paralyzed the protagonist. All the more ironic given that the demon they were all really facing was the demon of famine.

I know everything I'm saying sounds disjointed at the moment, but hang on, I need to be a bit descriptive before I connect all this.

The same phenomenon of script feinting will occur, not to make it look like Yoshida will be a love rival, a friend of Asa, the magnet between Denji and Asa, or the demon of death.

No, this time, in chapter 133, Fujimoto makes it look like Yoshida will be a great antagonist by proposing Denji's horrible dilemma of either being human and living with his family or being Chainsaw Man without it. But it all falls apart when he realizes that Denji chooses both, leaving Yoshida completely out of his depth. This time Fujimoto erases all the mystique around this character, he's not the player who moves the pieces against Fami, he's just a mediator.

The same phenomenon occurs when he locks Denji into this normal life that doesn't suit him, placing him in Fumiko's hands, leading to one of the least "normal" chapters, chapter 137.

I think that with all this, you're beginning to grasp a certain idea: Yoshida's purpose is a narrative feint, he's a character with indecipherable eyes for us to place all our doubts and mysteries in. The questions just pile up, and we project them through Yoshida, who answers none of them.

So who is Yoshida ?

The only thing I can say is that he's a mystery. And when I say this, it's not to clear my name, as nothing can be said about him, because he is written as such and should be appreciated as such. I often read that his eyes, fully black like Kishibe's, are not only perhaps a sign of kinship but also a sign of deep despair. I think it's precisely in this way that we can miss the originality of these characters.

Kishibe is not placed in the deepest despair, what makes him so strong, what makes him still here, being practically the only veteran of the public hunters (did you notice how young the public hunters still were?), is that he has accepted and internalized the madness of the system, bows to it instead of fighting against it, but is not dominated by it as someone unreasonable would be.

Whether it's Yoshida's black eyes or Kishibe's, the latter are simply the eyes of acceptance of the system. That is to say, their pupils are no longer illuminated by that little personal glimmer, seemingly devoid of emotion, since they are simply a reflection of the darkness of the system, of what's going on through them.

Yoshida's eyes are the eyes of a mysterious system that constantly stares at the characters without responding to them.

And now you're probably wondering, Anon:

What about the octopus ?

This is surely the most interesting answer to Yoshida's question.

When you're looking for meanings for octopuses, your first instinct is to think of mythology, isn't it? Leviathan, Kranken, Akkorokamui, the octopus is the subject of a multitude of legends, whose interpretations are intertwined, creative, healing or destructive, beneficent or maleficent, or even the subject of great divergence from the public, cute? Or monstrous?

This follows on from the previous statement: the octopus is a being onto which all concepts can be projected, even if they are contradictory. Yoshida's narrative function is the same: we project whatever we can onto him without him acting on it.

What's the one piece of information you could give me with any certainty? The fact that he's a demon hunter, right? In other words, the only thing you could say about the octopus is the environment it lives in? No ?

Do you know how octopuses are caught ?

Have you heard of the Japanese octopus trap? Specifically, the takotsubo? In fact, they're not really traps at all, but a form of passive fishing in which simple pierced stones or clay pots are placed on the seabed. The octopuses then enter these pots to protect themselves, using them as shelters to protect their fragile bodies. Above all, when the pots are brought to the surface, the octopuses don't even try to escape, pressing themselves against the walls.

Yoshida acts like these octopuses, not fighting the system, but rather embracing its walls, thinking he's safe when in fact he's trapped.

Hidden within this obscure system, the octopus has no idea that it's not safe, but has headed for its own destruction.

Now the connections make themselves. The only answer those big black eyes can give is a reflection of the system.

Asa is rejected by her classmates, by this micro-society that is school? The system appears.

Fans cheer Chainsaw Man on, as society is increasingly forged around him. The system takes an interest and invites him for coffee.

As Asa is rejected after her second date with Denji, the system will only add to her loneliness.

Chainsaw Man is a being whose function is to eliminate fears? The system will remind him of this.

Is Chainsaw Man an idiot? Will the system still try to control him, even if it means inhibiting him?

What if we were to use the metaphor of the octopus trap to provide the opposite answer ? Yoshida sticks to the walls of the system.

What does the system do? It weaves itself around Chainsaw Man.

Is this such a good idea ?

#chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #yoshida hirofumi #yoshida #my thoughts #csm spoilers #denji #asa #haruka #habana #yoru #yuko #ask

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autismvault · 7 months

Note

Hey! I'm the one with the Wayne dating a nerd girl request! I just wanted to let you know that I'd love to see what headcanons you've got for this ^^

Wayne & Ripper with a Nerd Reader

i decided to try and do ripper anyways! it was a fun challenge. i kept the interests very vague just so it’s more generalized :) i hope you like it!

Wayne

⁃ possibly one the most supportive guy you’ll never meet.

⁃ gives you his undivided attention when you talk about the things you enjoy. except for the occasional story about either a previous hockey game or something silly he did with raj which he always seems to be able to tie into about every conversation.

⁃ loves to buy you little knickknacks that remind him of you.

⁃ when you first met wayne, you briefly brought up a game you were obsessed with as a kid. after he told you that he’s never played the game, you thought nothing of the conversation and moved on with your life. a few weeks later, he approaches you to tell you everything he could remember from the game you raved about.

⁃ confused about what even prompted this in the first place, wayne quickly follows up by telling you he played the entirety of the game for you.

⁃ isn’t a ‘typical’ nerd but once anything, and i mean anything reminds him of hockey, he’s talking about it for the next 10 minutes at the very least. over time, he does this with your interests as well. the references don’t always make sense (they do in his head), you have to applaud him for being creative at the very least.

Ripper

⁃ has no idea how to form any kind of positive bond with someone other than his typical boy-friends. while he does avoid a ton of people on purpose, ripper has a hard time having genuine conversations with just about everyone.

⁃ he doesn’t really know how to communicate the fact that you two have something in common and he’d like to talk about it with you. everything just comes out bad. seriously. he sounds disingenuous and you can’t tell if he’s just telling a really bad joke.

⁃ after a ton of awkward encounters, ripper finally blurts it out. “I want to be your friend! I know it seems weird that I’d want to be around you but I really-“ ripper stops himself, realizing how aggressive he’s coming off.

⁃ before he can try and backtrack, you give him a simple ‘yes’ to avoid any more embarrassment for him.

⁃ you two have a lot in common! it’s a bit unexpected at first, but Ripper is a huge nerd! over time he gets more open about his interests, but it takes a while.

⁃ being a little.. socially unaware.. ripper genuinely believes he’s one of the coolest people ever. scared that his interests go against his oh-so-great reputation, he never tells anyone about things he genuinely enjoys. until he met you obviously!!

⁃ can be a bit of an inattentive listener at first. uncomfortable that you might ask what he likes, he’ll steer the conversations into completely different directions that had absolutely nothing to do with the original topic.

⁃ you know he tries nonetheless. when he’s genuinely comfortable with you, ohmygod ripper does not stop talking about the stuff he likes. you both connect over a ton of mutual interests which definitely helps a bunch.

⁃ loves to learn more about what makes you happy! he’s not a sweet talker by any means, but he definitely knows how to make you feel appreciated. similar to wayne, he’ll always buy you little knickknacks correlating to whatever you’re interested in at the time. he’s kind of the ultimate gift giver.

#wayne total drama #wayne x reader #ripper total drama #ripper x reader #total drama #total drama headcanons

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Dahlak Leon

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Contenedor ¡Ya!